Being Good
by EveByNight
Summary: *Or Bella Swan's Most Enlightening Lesson In Family Life* ... Bad girl Bella thinks that being banished from the big city means life will be boring...until she meets the gorgeous son of the local doctor and his bizarre family.  AH/AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: For all those who have been reading my other story, If (which I haven't abandoned), be advised that this is totally totally different and rated M for reasons of language and lemons.**

Bella

I scowl at Charlie from across the waiting room, waiting for him to get uncomfortable and look away. But damn him if he doesn't just stroke that idiotic moustache and shrug at me in a 'what can ya do?' kind of way.

_What you can do, _I think to myself, _is let me out of this mushy little corner of Dullsville, USA and let me go live somewhere where they've heard of Starbucks and feminism._

It's been three weeks since Renee excommunicated me and I found myself leaving the noise and heat of Phoenix to be unceremoniously dumped in the back of beyond to share a bathroom with the father I don't really know.

Charlie is weird. Even weirder than Renee and Phil, which is saying something. The man has no idea how to talk to people. Seriously, the only times we do talk I feel like he's probably recording it _on cassette tape _and I should have my lawyer present.

And, by the way, dude lives on beer and fish. If I never eat another be-gilled creature again it'll be too soon. What I wouldn't give for a Big Mac.

"Isabella Swan?" the nurse calls out, causing Charlie to jump up like a damn jumping jack-in-the-box. It's the fastest I've seen him move so far. Lucky that Forks is so fucking boring and there's no chance of him ever having to chase a deadly crim down.

Oh yeah, Charlie, just so's you know, is the Chief of Po-lice in this here Dixie lil village. Which means that a. I can't even sneak a damn beer and b. he knows every fucker in town and we have to stop and talk to every last one of them. It takes us an hour just to get to the end of our street.

"C'mon Bells, I'll just…" he makes this heaving noise as he pulls me out of my seat and in to an upright position.

"Get off!" I growl, whacking his hand away as he tries to guide me towards the exam room.

Doing my best not to wince I stride-hobble over to the room, squeezing past the fat-ass nurse as she stands to one side to let me in.

"Isabella!" she coos, "it's been such a long time since we've seen you here in…"

I slam the door behind me, hard, cutting her off and leaving Charlie out in the waiting room.

"Miss Swan, please take a seat…"

What did I say about Forks being boring again? Let me reassess based on some new information. Apparently I've been missing out on the fact that in Washington they employ supermodels as doctors.

The guy sat at a desk in front of me is too damn young and too damn hot to be anybody's doctor. That said he can totally examine me any old time. _Please God tell me he's a gyno…I will never take your name in vain again._

The door swings open and in bumbles Charlie, glaring at me for being so rude to the nurse.

"_Jesus Christ,_" I hiss, rolling my eyes at him for spoiling my little one on one moment with Dr Hot.

Ok, so in fairness our one on one basically consists of me gawping, open mouthed and glassy eyed like one of Charlie's freezer fish while he waits for me to sit down. But still.

I limp across the room and slump in to the seat which the doc is still offering me with one of his very…uh, capable looking hands.

Charlie drags a chair out from a corner, scraping it across the linoleum with a screech until he's close enough to me to be just the right level of fucking annoying.

"Hi Isabella," Dr Hot smiles, "what can I do for you today?"

What? No small talk? I'm liking this dude more and more by the minute.

"Well Dr…uh…" I check the plaque on his desk, "Cullen. It's nothing really but Charlie here insists on freaking out about the smallest little thing."

"I think she's sprained an ankle Carlisle," Charlie butts in.

Dr Cullen nods and leans forward, tenting his fingers. Do they teach that shit in medical school or something?

"So how did this happen?" he asks, all concerned like. God, his eyes are like, mega- mega-blue. Grrr.

"Um," I stutter, just about stopping myself from crawling across the desk, grabbing the good doctor and tongue fucking him in to next week. "Well the thing is, I'm, like, so clumsy it's kind of a disability…" I start, the words just kind of falling out. The good old Bella Swan verbal diarrea strikes again.

"She slipped on the ice," Charlie finishes, not even trying to stop the snigger that bursts right out of him at the memory of me sliding down his driveway on my stomach, like a fucking penguin.

"Ah, you're not the first and you won't be the last," Dr Cullen grins, "why don't you hop up on the couch and I'll take a look."

I clamber up on his examination couch inelegantly and stick my purple and blue swollen up foot in his general direction.

"Is it possible to be physically retarded?"

He looks at me like I'm mad, "pardon?"

"Well, you know how some people are mentally backwards? Well I've got this theory right," I can see Charlie shaking his head in something like shame, which only spurs me on, "I reckon that I'm the physical equivalent."

Dr Cullen's nodding along as he gently bends my ankle one way then the other, "how do you mean?"

"Ok, so I can't even put one foot in front of the other without stumbling, I can't catch…"

"I certainly don't think it's a medical issue," he chuckles, his blue eyes all sparkly, "I suspect you're just a little clumsy."

"A lot clumsy," Charlie pipes up.

"Yeah, thanks a million Dad, glad I make you so proud."

"I don't know where she gets it from Carlisle," Charlie goes on, totally ignoring the evil eye I'm throwing his way.

"'Cause Charlie here's got a shelf full of trophies for figure skating, ballroom dancing, all that shit," I snarl.

"Alright Bells, watch the language. All I'm saying is that you've fallen over more times this week than I have since you were born."

Dr Cullen bandages me all up and tells me I need to rest up. No gym for at least a couple of weeks. Oh yes! _Come here Dr C and let me show you how grateful I am_…

Of all the things that were killing me about starting at the new school gym classes were at the top of a very long list.

Dr C and Charlie shoot the breeze for a minute before we get ushered out in to the waiting room again.

"Thanks Doc," Charlie says, shaking his hand all buddy-buddy.

"No problem, you bring her back in to get that bandage checked in, let's say three days?" He turns to me. I'm already half way to the door, "take care Isabella, keep the weight off and stay away from the ice."

"Yeah sure. I'll get Dad to carry me everywhere doc. Thanks."

I turn back towards the door, waving a hand back at Dr Hot. Next thing I know I've walked face first in to something – something hard – and I'm on my ass with a whole ton of people gasping around me.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry," whispers a voice from somewhere above a pair of grey jeans and scruffy workboots.

"Why don't you look where you're going, idiot!" I snarl, crawling on to my hands and knees before trying to stand up on my one good leg.

"Strictly speaking," the owner of the voice is offering me a hand, which I ignore, "you were the one who wasn't looking where _you_ were going."

"Bells are you ok honey?" Charlie's practically lifting me off the ground to look me over for injuries. I shove him away with two hands, feeling myself blush a bright, bright red.

And, of course, there's Dr Cullen, all concerned and whatnot, asking if I've hit my head and if my ankle's ok.

"I'm fine, _Jesus_!" I straighten out my hoodie and jeans, "this bozo just needs to…"

Guh.

I'm frozen to the spot, one hand out towards the guy who's knocked me off my feet. And I can't be sure he's not about to do it again, metaphorically speaking.

He's got to be six foot at least and he's well built but not in an icky Hulk way, in a not-an-ounce-of-fat, perfect-bod kind of way. He's got this mad auburn hair which is sticking up like he's jammed his fingers in an electric socket…or he's just had really, _really_ hot sex… and his eyes are the greenest eyes I have ever seen in and they're kind of angry and…I dunno, _burning_?

"Isabella Swan," Dr Cullen says and I blink wildly, realising that I've been staring at this gorgeous guy like he's a lump of meat – prime rump steak but meat nonetheless – and, I kid you not, there's a little bit of drool pooling at the side of my open mouth, "this is my son, Edward Cullen."

"Hi," he extends a hand towards me. I just gawp. So Dr Hot has a son. A son who, I gauge, must be around about my age. A son who is even hotter than Dr Hot. Dr Hot Jr. Oh, and I've just called him a bozo. _A bozo. _Seriously, who even uses that word?

When I don't react Edward Cullen simply grasps the fingers of the hand which is still hanging out there in mid air and sort of shakes my arm up and down.

I come to and snatch my hand away from him like he's just burnt me.

"Pleasure," I sneer, looking him up and down with what I hope is indifference, "little tip for you, next time you're after an introduction knocking a gal over isn't the way to go about it."

"I.." he begins but I don't give him time to answer, pushing past him and letting myself out of the surgery, in to the car park. I try giving the hips a little swing but manage to knock myself off kilter a bit, stumbling up against Charlie's squad car.

There's a chuckle from behind me and I know it's him. What a tool.

A week later I'm unceremoniously dumped in a miserable little office with another cheerful Forksian gushing all over me.

Ms Cope is all owl eye glasses and bumbling enthusiasm, wobbling around her plant-filled space - like anybody needs additional greenery in this town - collecting bits of paper and wittering on about what a great school Forks High is and how welcoming the kids will be.

Calling this place a school, by the way, is overstating it. Forks High School is roughly the same size as a Phoenix kindergarten. Any hopes I had of blending in and being ignored were quickly dashed when I spotted the cluster of low rise buildings and the tiny student car park as Charlie practically shoved me out of his moving squad car first thing this morning.

Ms Cope sends me off in the direction of my first class and I join the happy throngs in the hallways, pulling the hood of my raincoat up in the hopes I won't get noticed by any of the disgustingly cheerful students hanging around in the halls.

My first classes pass relatively uneventfully. Some airheaded girl takes a shine to me and I let her imagine I appreciate her taking me under her wing, even though I can't remember her name and haven't listened to anything she's said beyond our first three minutes together.

She drags me in to the canteen at lunchtime and shows me off to some friends – some dude named Mike who can't keep his tongue in his head and seems to have some kind of x-ray vision which allows him to see directly through my clothes, his dorky pal Eric and a girl who, I think, I might get on ok with. At least Angela seems about as enthused about this whole sideshow as I am. She's totally emo, right down to her Alice in Wonderland socks and fucked up eyeliner.

"Who've you got next?" Angela drawls, leaning in to look at my timetable. The canteen crowd has started to disperse and I'm collecting up my stuff for my first afternoon of Forks High torture.

"Banner?"

"Bio! Me too!" I swear to God, Mike speaks! in! exclamation! marks!

He insists on walking me, like I might get lost in amongst the, literally,_ tens_ of students. I half listen to him babble about some lame-ass sounding party that Jessica's – oh right, that's airhead girl's name – throwing at the weekend.

"You should come!" Mike enthuses.

"Hmm, I dunno…", I don't want to have to explain the whole banned-from-having-a-social-life-ever-again situation to him.

"Jess's parties are legendary man! Last time she got a karaoke machine!"

Oh, a karaoke machine? Why didn't you say so? Jesus, Forks really was going up the lame-o-meter by the second.

Before he could enthuse any further about the, I dunno, piñatas and games of Red Rover or whatever the hell else Jessica had planned for her uber-party we arrive at the biology classroom.

Mike looks a little disappointed that he couldn't offer me the seat next to him, seeing as someone was already sat in it. I get over the disappointment pretty quickly.

Mr Banner – one of those annoying enthusiastic teachers who think they're 'down with the kids' – checks out my paperwork and nods, his head bouncing up and down like it's on a spring.

"Cool. So I've got a seat for you right here."

Cool? Seriously? Where do they get these people…oh. Shit.

Mr Banner has guided me to the only empty seat in the room – trust me, I checked pretty quickly and short of pulling up a seat at teacher's desk, which I might still do, I have no other choice – and, as luck would have it I'm going to be spending the rest of the school year lab partnering the best looking guy in all of Forks, possibly in all of Washington State.

Which would have me doing little jumpy claps and making 'squeeeee' noises if only he didn't happen to be my old shovey friend Edward 'Bozo' Cullen.

I roll my eyes at him and sit down, scooching my chair as far away from his as possible. The reason for the scooch is twofold. Firstly, I want to make my position perfectly clear when it comes to fuckwits who knock a girl off her feet then blame her for the accident. Secondly, not only does Dr Hot Jr look incredible, he _smells like sex_. I don't mean he literally honks like a used condom, I mean the dude smells so fucking amazing if I get too close I just might lean on over and stick my tongue in his ear.

Mr Banner's all over the lesson by the time I've arranged myself, complete with hair pulled across my top lip which might make me look like I'm taking facial adornment tips from Charlie but which provides a strawberry shampoo barrier between my nasal receptors and Cullen's do-me smell.

Thankfully the class moves pretty quickly and it's all lecture and note taking so I don't have to deal with speaking to Dr Hot Jr. In fact I'm totally ready to give myself a high five when the bell rings and I'm already half out of my seat with my backpack on.

But of course as the laws of Swan Clumsiness would have it I've forgotten the damn zip on the damn bag and as I stand a waterfall of text books, keys and all the other shit I keep in there is tumbling to the floor behind me.

I stand there for a sec, my eyes closed, hoping that Cullen's going to ignore the disaster area at his feet and just leave but when I open them he's crouched down, a pile of books already in his arms and a shit-eating grin on his face.

"You forgot to zip your bag," he states, passing the books up to me.

I snatch them, all huffy, "really? Well, gee, thanks for letting me know Captain Obvious."

It's then that I notice it, all kind of nestled up to his left foot. It's the very item that will, I suspect, ensure that for the rest of my life I'll have the most organised, shit-free bags in the US. Yep, right there, making friends with Edward Cullen's boot is a foil wrapped johnny.

I scramble down to the floor, grabbing at the little silver square of foil in blind panic just at the same time he reaches for it. I don't think he's even realised what he's about to pick up…

"Shit," I hiss as we crouch there on the floor, under the biology desk, each holding an end of the stray love glove like it's a string of spaghetti and we're Lady and the Tramp. The only saving grace being that at least it's fucking wrapped.

He's as red as I am as he lets go of it and I shove the offending item in to my bag, dumping everything else on top.

"So…" he starts, pressing his mouth in to a flat line and sort of nodding his head.

"So?" I snap back, standing up and heaving my bag on to my back.

"Are you going to blame me for that too?" I can see he's trying really hard not to laugh and it just makes me want to slap him even more than I already wanted to.

Slap him and then kiss it all better.

"What?"

"I mean you already hold me entirely responsible for your pratfall at the surgery the other day. Why not this one too?"

"Fuck off." Right, put that 3.8 GPA to good use Swan.

He ignores it and trails me out of the classroom and in to the corridor.

"So, Isabella right?"

"Bella," I snap, sick of correcting people. I hate, HATE, being called Isabella.

"Bella, right. Are you going to Jessica Stanley's party Saturday night?"

"I very much doubt it." Seriously, this party's the talk of the school?

"Oh. Why not?"

I stop abruptly and whirl to face him, craning my neck up to look him right in the eye. Right in the hypnotising, burning right in to my skull, emerald green eye.

"Number one, I grew out of Blind Man's Bluff and jello about ten years ago. Number two, even if I hadn't, the likelihood of me being granted permission to leave the house before I'm about ninety is pretty damn low right now."

Shit, the whole 'you're banned from having a social life until we say so young lady,' was supposed to stay under wraps. Sometimes my big fucking mouth just has a mind of its own.

"What?" he's leaning back as if I'm about to punch his lights right out.

I sigh, "Charlie's got me under house arrest for the foreseeable. I'm in deep, deep shit with the parentals."

Edward's looking at me like he's waiting for more info. Fuck it.

"Look, you think I moved to this dump out of choice? I got banished up here by Renee and Phil – Mom and her husband – because, well," I make a sweeping look-at-it gesture with my arm, "I'm not going to be getting in to much trouble here right?"

"Jesus," he breathes, "what the hell did you do?"

"Trust me, it's not half as exciting as it sounds."

I leave him gaping after me and stalk off to gym, still limping on my bandaged up ankle and now fully prepared to become the talk of Forks High School.

Surprisingly, the week rumbles on like a rubbish cart and blow me if Edward Cullen keeps his newly gathered information to himself.

I'm not sure whether to be grateful to him or to be pissed off that he finds me so uninteresting that I'm not even worth a little gossip.

We don't say much to each other really, even when we're partnered up for some cell work that I've already done back in Phoenix anyways. I keep catching him kinda peeking at me through the veil of hair I've taken to using as a screen between the two of us and I'm not about to pretend I don't do a bit of my own peeking too – peeking and fantasising, peeking and fantasising, then getting pissed at him for distracting me with his hotness.

Elsewhere Angela and I have got this new friendship thing going on. Mostly it consists of complaining and giving each other 'the look' pretty much every time that Jessica or Mike open their mouths but that level of friendship suits me. It's not like I'm gonna be let out to play for the foreseeable anyway.

"Good first week?" Charlie asks when I dump my backpack and keys on the kitchen table and slump in to a chair on Friday afternoon.

I shrug in response, pulling the ring on a can of Coke and glugging it.

"So, made many friends yet?"

"Couple of people I guess."

"They got names Bells?" Charlie's digging for info and it's easier to just give it to him.

"There's this girl Angela Weber, she's pretty cool. And I guess Mike Newton, Jessica Stanley and Eric Yorkie are kind of _the gang_."

Charlie's all happy and shit about that, apparently Angela's from a 'good family' and Mike's 'a great kid'.

"You see much of the Cullen kid?" he asks, digging in the fridge for a beer.

"Edward? I guess. He's my lab partner in bio. We don't really hang out though."

"Really?" and why, might I ask, is Daddy dearest looking so surprised by this titbit?

"Yeah, I mean, we say 'hi' and all but we're not exactly braiding each others hair. Uh, why?"

Charlie shakes his head, "want pizza?" he asks, changing the subject.

"Sure, unless you want me to cook?"

We eat our pizza in silence, Charlie on his third beer, me washing the meat feast down with milk. That, I guess, is one decent thing about Charlie. He doesn't want to talk at me all the fucking time. Renee gave me regular headaches with her wittering. The woman, I'm not kidding here, does not shut up. Her inane, pointless chatter has been the soundtrack to the first seventeen years of my life and now, living with Charlie it's almost like I've gone deaf.

"So, you're not going to Jessica's party?"

I stop mid-bite and slowly return the slice of pizza to my plate.

"Uh no," I look at him in confusion. Can senility kick in this early? "_don't expect to see the light of day outside of school while you're here young lady,_" I break out my actually pretty passable Chief Swan impression as I repeat part of his welcome lecture, "remember that one Dad?"

He wipes his mouth on his sleeve and leans forward thoughtfully.

"Well I figure the Stanleys'll be there to keep an eye on you all. And it'd be too bad to let the Cullen boy down…"

"Hang on," I hold a hand up to stop him, "what the fuck…sorry, I mean what the _hell_, does Edward have to do with it?"

"He asked you along to the party didn't he?"

"Uh, _no_. I guess he asked me if I was going, but he didn't, like, ask me to go _with_ him."

"Huh," Charlie's stroking his moustache, all thoughtful-like and I'm wishing he'd realise there was some cheese hanging off the damn thing, "I guess I should have mentioned it before, I thought he would have spoken to you."

"Mentioned what?"

"Cullen…Edward…he called to ask my permission to take you along to Jessica's party. I kinda assumed he'd already asked you."

"No!" my voice is three octaves higher, "what did you say? You did say no, right Dad? Dad? You said I couldn't? 'Cause of the lifetime ban on socialising and all, right?"

"Well no Bells, I told him it was a-ok with me honey," he claps his hands together in some sort of celebration of his own incredible parenting skills, "a little freedom isn't going to hurt is it now?"

"Ugh!" I squeal, pushing my seat out and staggering out of it, pizza all forgotten, "yes, in this situation a little freedom _is_ going to hurt Dad. Who even gave you permission to even talk to Edward Cullen?"

As I mount the stairs with an almighty stomp Charlie's bemused voice drifts out of the kitchen after me, "I think you should go Bells, it'll be good for you to get to know people. And the Cullens are a great family."

"According to you anybody who lives in Forks is a 'great family'," I yell back and slam my door closed behind me.

I pick up my cell. And then I put it down again. And pick it up again. And put it down. Pick it up and throw it at the wall where it pings open and the battery jumps out, taking a suicidal leap under my bed.

I want to call Edward Cullen and give him a piece of my mind. Where the fuck does he get off asking my dad to take me to Jessica's lameass party? Who does he think he is? With his rich doctor dad and his face and his fancy car – oh, didn't I mention that while I have to hitch a lift in the squad car or walk-slide to school Edward 'look at me' Cullen drives a shiny, brand new Volvo?

Of course I don't have his number. And even if I did I'd be too furious to even string a sentence together. So instead I stew on it. I sit on my bed, muttering to myself about presumptuous pigs who think they can make decisions for me.

I'm practising the lecture I'm going to give to Edward on Monday under my breath, complete with 'furious' faces when there's a knock on my bedroom door.

"What?" I snarl, bracing myself for another pointless conversation with Charlie.

But when the door swings open it's Angela standing there, a grin on her face and, oddly, a little silver tiara tangled in her black hair.

"Dude, is it true?" she gasps, her eyes alight.

"Huh?"

"I've been trying to call you but you're going straight to ansaphone."

"Yeah, the phone kinda had a fight with the wall," I shrug, "is what true?"

"About you and," she lowers her voice to a reverent whisper, "_Edward Cullen_?"

I can feel my jaw hanging open but, honestly, I don't have a clue what I'm supposed to say. And I'm feeling kind of paranoid now that there seems to be a situation worthy of Angela, who I don't know that well, turning up at my house looking like she's just heard that 30 Seconds To Mars have moved in next door.

Angela flops down on my bed, biting a nail, "damnit," she sighs, "I guess not then."

"Unless what you heard was that apparently Cullen still thinks it's 1948 then no, it's not."

"So he didn't ask you to go to the party with him? Because Jessica heard from Mike who's on the football team with Emmett…"

"Who the fuck's Emmett?" I interrupt.

"You've not met Emmett? He's Edward's brother…he's kinda disgusting."

"Edward has a brother?" this is all new information. Dr Hot _has _been busy.

"Yeah, he's got two brothers," Angela confirms, "anyway so Jessica says that Mike heard that Emmett thinks that Edward's taking _you_ to Jessica's party tomorrow night."

"Yeah, Edward and Charlie seem to think that that's the case too."

"Who's Charlie?" her eyes suddenly bulge out of her head, "hang on, so it IS true?"

I'm not exaggerating when I say that Angela is literally bouncing a foot off the bed.

"Well, it's true in so far as that the chauvinist pig has called Charlie – _Dad _– to arrange between the two of them that he should take me."

"Oh. My. GOD! You've got a date with Edward Cullen!" Angela has forgotten the whole emo thing and is doing a pretty good Jessica impression.

I lean against the wall and cross my arms, trying my best to look severe, "actually, no I haven't. I'm not going to Jessica's party."

Angela stops bouncing and looks me dead in the eye, "_you said no_?"

"Yes I said no! Who does he think he is Angela? He didn't even ask me!"

"I think it's quite romantic, and Bella, in case you've not noticed Edward Cullen is only the hottest guy in Forks. And he never dates. Like, literally never."

I've turned my back to Angela because, and I hate to admit this, I am totally grinning from ear to ear.

"You have to come Bella…please, please, please."

"I'll think about it man," I tell her, because it would be good to get out, "but I'm definitely not going with _him_."

**A/N: So go on, tell me what you think of bitchy Bella...**


	2. Chapter 2

"Bells! Bella?"

"What?"

"Visitor!"

I throw down my pen and heave out of my seat. I'm not expecting anybody but I'm guessing Charlie's got Billy Black and his son over again. I think he's got in it in his head that Jacob Black and I are going to be fast friends just because our dads are fishing buddies.

Not that there's anything wrong with Jacob, he's a good kid and all but that's just it, he's a kid. All enthusiasm and scrawn.

So I meander down the stairs to say hi, jumping the last three steps because, honestly, I know the thumping annoys the shit out of Charlie.

I stop dead in my tracks, wobbling on my one good foot. Because it's not the Blacks at all. Nope, there, looking totally embarrassed to be standing in Charlie's hallway, is Edward Cullen.

"So you kids have a good night now," Charlie grins before turning to glare at me all pointedly, "go enjoy yourself Bells."

I give him the evil eye but it's only the back of his head that gets the full effect of my wrath. So instead I turn my anger on Dr Hot Jr.

"What are you doing here?" I hiss, although the whole effect is probably dampened by the super short shorts with the hole right in the middle of the ass and the Spongebob Squarepants t shirt I'm rocking.

He's red in the face and not saying anything. But his eyes are very firmly fixed on Spongebob's eyes which are stretched right over my chest. It makes the 'Bob look a little freakish but I'm guessing that's not the issue here.

I snap my fingers in front of Edward's face, "hey! Up here Cullen!"

"Um," he gulps, his green eyes refocusing as he fixes his gaze on my face, "sorry…sorry."

"So?" I cross my arms and eyeball him, "why are you loitering in my hallway?"

"The party…" he begins and I choke dramatically, just for effect.

"Oh yes. _The party_. This is the party that you didn't bother to ask me to?"

"I thought you'd appreciate a chaperone. I mean, I got your dad to agree to let you go and all," he's moving from nervous and unsure to cheesed off with me. Good.

"Which would've been fine only you forgot to run your bright idea past me."

"Yeah, you're welcome Bella," he sneers, "glad I bothered."

"You shouldn't have," I lower my voice, sensing Charlie lingering on the other side of the door, listening in. For a cop he isn't all that subtle.

"No perhaps not," his voice lowers too and it's kind of husky and sending a message straight to my underwear, "but you can either sit around here sulking at me or you can get dressed and come out. You never know, you might even enjoy yourself."

"Doubtful."

"And for the record, I tried to ask you but apparently you didn't see fit to reply to any of my messages."

"What messages?" Like I'm going to fall for that one.

He raises an eyebrow, "the four text messages and three voicemails I left on your cell."

"No, you…" I trail off. My cell, of course, is still in several pieces scattered on my bedroom floor. "You couldn't have asked me at school? Face to face?"

"Look Bella, I'm going to the party. Either come with me or don't."

Ugh. My witty comeback cells are failing me. _Can't…produce…sarcasm_. And in all honesty he's right, I could sit here watching Sports Night with Charlie or I could go laugh at Forks' idea of a good time.

"Ten minutes," I hold up the equivalent number of fingers and a grin spreads across his face. God, he's gorgeous.

Upstairs I strip off and replace the Spongebob combo with a pair of ultra-skinny jeans and a black vest, pull my hair in to a ponytail and rub a bit of eyeliner round my eyes. It'll do.

"Come on then," I push past Edward, who's still loitering with intent, and open the door shouting back to Charlie that I'll be in when I'm in. I doubt parties go on past ten in this shitty town anyhow. He doesn't seem bothered.

"What's that Bella?" Edward gasps as I trip out of the door in front of him, making for his fucking obnoxious car.

"What's what?" I ask without turning. I suddenly feel warm fingers on my shoulder blade, running along the bone, under the strap of my top.

"Is it real?"

"Oh, that…yup," I realise he's tracing the outline of my tattoo, "exhibit number one in The Banishment of Bella Swan."

He sucks his breath in, really loud and kind of shaky, "I like it."

"Me too," I nod, popping open the car door and clambering in, "but the folks…not so keen."

We arrive at the party to find, huge surprise, that the place is very much not rocking. There's a gaggle of girls in the Stanley kitchen gossiping and drinking distinctly alcohol free punch while the dudes arm wrestle in the living room. I mean, seriously, they're _arm wrestling_. All we need's the Fonz and we've got ourselves a regular episode of Happy fucking Days.

Angela spots me and waves, separating from the group to come talk. But when she spots Edward trailing me she falters, her eyes bugging out of her head.

"Hi Angela," he greets her politely.

"Uh," she stutters, "Edward, hi. So you got Bella to come?"

I snigger at the double entendre – look, I can't help having the sense of humour of a second grader – and catch Edward's eye. He blushes furiously as the reason for my snorty laugh dawns.

"Yeah, I found a gap for Edward to fill," I deadpan, waiting a beat, "in my diary I mean."

There's a sharp clap on my shoulder and a roaring laugh which seems to silence the whole room.

"Dude! I love this girl already!" I turn to find myself face-to-chest with this burly guy who is way too ripped for high school and repeating 'a gap to fill' over and over, increasingly loudly. Eventually he doubles up, slapping his thigh and roaring again.

"I'm here all week," I announce, rolling my eyes at the slight over reaction to my not-that-funny joke.

"I'm Emmett," the huge guy booms, enveloping me in a huge cologne-scented bear hug, "you're Bella right?" he holds me away from him and checks me out, head to toe and back again, nodding approvingly.

"This is my brother," Edward mutters, looking slightly shamefaced at the admission.

"Bella, Bella, Bella," Emmett chants, "the one who finally got Edward interested in girls."

I cock an eyebrow at Edward whose face is now clashing with his hair. This is news to me – Dr Hot Jr has a thing for litlle ol' me.

"I'm not interested in…I mean, I am…if..._God Emmett_!"

"Seriously Bella," Emmett goes on, ignoring Edward's extreme embarrassment, "we were all starting to think that Eddie here was about to make a flamboyant exit from the closet he's been sharing with Tom Cruise."

"Eddie?" I ask, amused.

"I prefer _not _to be called that," Edward grinds out from between gritted teeth.

Emmett finally releases me, still grinning from ear to ear, "sorry dude," he chuckles, holding his palm out for a high five. Edward ignores it.

"Whatever man," Emmett uses the snubbed hand to squeeze his brother's shoulder, whispering at a volume louder than the average person's speaking voice, "you totally need to hit that."

As Emmett saunters away, finding some other meatheads to, no doubt, talk physics and philosophy with, I note Edward's defeated pose.

"I'm so sorry about him," he's not looking at me, "Emmett doesn't have the brain-to-mouth filter that most normal people have."

"No problem. He seems…nice."

Just then Angela hands us both little paper cups filled with kiddy punch.

"Jesus," I exclaim, knocking it back, "nobody even spikes the punch round here?"

"It's difficult to get alcohol I guess. Everyone knows everyone else."

I nod thoughtfully at Angela's explanation. Makes sense. My brain kicks in to gear then and I snatch up Edward's car key from where he's left it on the kitchen counter. I dangle it in front of him.

"We need to duck out," I grin, "back in a sec Ang."

Edward waits until we're seated in his Volvo again before he asks where we're going, putting the car in to reverse and skilfully backing out of the collection of less impressive motors randomly parked outside Jessica's house.

I explain and he doesn't argue, though his expression is pretty doubtful.

"What? You think I won't do it?" I ask, crossing my arms across my chest grumpily.

"Oh, I've no doubt you'll do it Bella," he glances over at me, smiling his amazing lopsided smile which makes me want to lick his face a bit, "I just don't know if it's a great idea is all."

I consider for a very brief moment.

"Probably not," I agree.

We return to the party half an hour later to be met by an over excited Mike who is raving about something really fucking not worth raving about to his friend Eric on the front lawn.

"Swan!" he yells on seeing us, choosing to ignore Edward's presence, "how's it hanging?"

"Slightly to the right," I answer but the statement seems to only bamboozle Mike.

"Oh man," he clocks the brown bag under my arm, "is that what I think it is?"

I nod, "shall we not shout about it though?"

Mike is wide eyed and bouncing as he follows Edward and I in to the kitchen where we help ourselves to more of the punch. I unscrew the lid on the bottle of vodka I've just purchased – no problem by the way, one benefit of never visiting Charlie if I could help it is that most people don't recognise me and _nobody anywhere _questions the faithful Phoenix fake ID, that shit cost me over fifty bucks – and slosh a shot in to each of our cups.

Mike continues holding out his cup expectantly even though I'm pretty sure a shot is going to be enough in the miniscule vessels we're supping out of. I eye him warily.

"Fill her up," he beams and I start to doubt whether the guy has ever so much as touched alcohol before.

But who am I to argue? I do as I'm asked and Mike takes a long swig, immediately choking and burning red at the taste of the cheap vodka overpowering the sweet, fruity punch.

Edward thumps him on the back, hard.

"Are you ok Mike?" I ask.

He gives me thumbs, still unable to talk normally, choking out "yeah, yeah it's just…you know, the punch is kinda sweet."

I surpress an eye roll and instead nod sagely, "yeah, totally sweet."

Edward is trying not to laugh as he sips on his own drink, raising his cup to me behind Mike's back.

Word gets around pretty quickly and before I know it I'm all out of vodka but feeling pleasantly relaxed. I duck out back for a smoke – I'd stopped when I was shipped up to Forks but kept a pack in reserve in case of emergency – to find Mike doubled up over the Stanley's prize rose bushes, hurling profusely.

"Mike, you ok dude?" I ask, but he just waves an arm back at me, warning me off as another round of heaving begins.

Instead of sticking around for the show I take a wander down the lawn, dragging on my cigarette gratefully and thinking about how exactly I'm going to pass the next year in this podunk town.

It's not that I didn't understand why Renee had shipped me off to Charlie – I could appreciate that her motherly understanding was at its end what with the teenage rebellion and all. Not to mention that the final episode of the 'Bella Swan: Rebel' show would render it pretty difficult to look at one's daughter, even if she'd always been a real angel up until then.

But I feel like Forks might just drive me to insanity. I mean, Renee packed up and shipped out asap when she realised how drab the damn place was right? So why put me through the same extreme boredom? Perhaps she should have considered that this level of nothing just might induce ever more inventive ways to create excitement.

I fling my cigarette butt down and toe it enthusiastically. Somehow I doubt that even the most creative troublemaker could find much fun in Forks.

"Hey," even though I'd known him only a short while I'd recognise Edward's low, sultry voice anywhere, "feeling ok?"

"'course," I answer, "have you seen Mike?"

He hmms in reply, "he's not too good eh?"

"I tried to warn him."

"You didn't stop him," Edward counters.

"Oh, it's _my _job to keep the good citizens of Forks under control is it?"

"I didn't mean that…"

"Look, Mike's a big boy, he can make his own decisions," I shrug, "I don't see anybody else pebbledashing the garden anyways."

He chuckles and I see his green eyes flash even in the dark, "I'm not sure that you're very good news for this town Bella Swan."

"I'm not that bad you know," I sulk, realising that I'm earning a reputation – with Edward Cullen at least – pretty quick.

"Aren't you?" he's suddenly very close and his breath, all fruit and alcohol with just a little mint, is hitting me in the face, "do you want to tell me why you were sent to live with Chief Swan then? _Apart_ from this?"

His arm snakes around me and his fingers find the burst of stars inked across my shoulder blade again. I shiver at his touch, briefly wondering how one moment he could be so shy, bumbling and blushing and tongue tied, and the next he could be like this – confident and pure, unadulterated sex.

"The usual, you know," I breathe and, admittedly, I bite on my bottom lip and look up at him coyly completely on purpose, "sex, drugs, rock, roll."

"Really?" he let his hand travel down, finding the middle of my back and resting his palm there, "want to give me any more details?"

"Not particularly, I'd rather maintain my air of mystery."

We're toe to toe now, hidden from the house by the complete darkness cast by the trees which edge the garden, both of us breathing pretty damn heavily. I figure if anybody finds us here we could probably pass as just having been out jogging.

"I'm not sure I'd call you mysterious," he murmurs, "intriguing maybe."

"What," I put my hands firmly on my hips, "is that even supposed to mean."

"Well, nobody who finds it as difficult as you do to put one foot in front of the other without breaking a limb can claim to be mysterious."

"Huh," I'm hovering somewhere between turned on and pissed off now, "you're pretty simple yourself Edward. I can read you like a fucking book."

"Is that right? And I guess you're about to tell me a bedtime story?"

"Spoiled, good looking, rich kid like you? There's one in every town," I scoff.

"Spoiled?" I can make out his fuck-me smile, creeping out on to his face. Smug bastard.

"Uh, yeah," my 'duh' voice is particularly seductive.

"And good looking too?"

"Don't pretend you don't spend an hour in the bathroom perfecting the sex hair Cullen."

He splutters in response, "_sex hair_?"

"You know what I'm talking about," I'm not about to spell it out for him because he totally does.

"Seriously Bella, I don't," he shrugs and for a moment I'm convinced that he really doesn't put a great deal of morning effort in to getting that fucked and fluffed effect.

Never let it be said that education isn't held up as the very highest of priorities by Isabella Marie Swan.

Edward gasps in surprise as I lunge, pressing my lips against his forcefully and diving my fingers straight in to his mass of mad auburn hair. My tongue pushes his lips apart and searches his mouth, tangling with his eagerly. As we kiss, our bodies hard against each other, I wind my fingers in the hair, pulling and tugging, tangling and twisting it, pulling his head down to allow me easier access to him.

I feel extremely triumphant as he hardens against my stomach but resist the urge to rub myself frantically against him like a bitch in heat. After all, this is a teaching exercise, not pleasure.

So I pull back, freeing my hands from his now even crazier hair, and give a satisfied smile, announcing, "sex hair."

Edward, eyes wide, mouth open and panting, reaches up to touch his scalp, investigating the mess I've made of his carefully arranged 'do.

"Ok. Right…I see."

"I'm a firm believer that people learn best through practice," I quip, stroking my chin like I've got a little beard there, which, for the record, I haven't. Though I did recently spend some time with an eyebrow pencil exploring the chin-wig possibilities. Like I say, life in Forks can be pretty dull

"Could we practice again?" he asks, kind of nervously. Confident sex-Edward has left the building.

I pretend to think for a moment then smile up at him, moving in and standing on my tippy-toes again.

This time I take it easier, letting my lips flutter over his, licking slowly at his bottom lip, nibbling and tasting. He responds in kind, almost hesitantly returning my kisses, letting me take the lead as, once again our tongues find each other. We exchange hot breath, both inhaling and exhaling deeply and rapidly, equally excited by the feel of each other.

As we kiss Edward's hands stay firmly in place, never moving from my waist. It's a frustrating state of affairs being that my entire body is yearning for the touch of his long, firm fingers. Not, of course, that I'm expecting him to go plunging in to my panties without a second thought – although that isn't to say that the idea is unwelcome, despite the embarrassment factor of the rather unexpected impression of a leaky tap that I'm currently doing – but a little over the shirt action wouldn't go amiss. In fact any movement would be better than this…nothing.

My hands, on the other…uh, hand…are touching up a storm, moving from his hair down his face and across his hard as granite chest where I can feel his nipples straining against the thin cotton of his shirt. He groans as I continue downwards, finding the hem of the shirt with one hand and pulling it out to allow the other hand access to his bare skin.

He's warm and firm and unyielding under my hands and I take my time feeling the outline of muscle and sinew and letting myself hope he'll follow my lead. But his hands stay just where they are, holding on to me as if I might be about to fall over. Which, in fairness, is always a possibility. Even so.

"Edward," I murmur in to his mouth, freeing one hand from his shirt and allowing it to find one of his. My fingers stroke over his knuckles hopefully. I'm too embarrassed to tell him to touch me but I figure this is probably hint enough.

But even while I'm running my tongue and teeth down his neck and around his ear, pushing myself in to his very obvious hard on, he still refuses to move.

I growl in frustration and grab his hand in mine, yanking it off of my hip and placing it unceremoniously on my left boob. Admittedly it's not the most subtle of moves but it has the desired effect and while he palms me roughly, causing my nipples to stand to attention and warmth to flood through me, he pushes his other hand up the back of my vest, spreading his palm over the small of my back, his fingers digging in to my soft flesh.

I rotate my hips, letting my pelvis grind against his upper thigh, sending a feeling of intense pleasure out to every nerve ending in my body and causing him to shudder, his erection twitching against my stomach. Not for the first time I wish I was just that bit taller. I think he might have the same idea actually because he bends his knees just enough that, with my tip toeing and all, we're almost aligned. Ok, so it isn't the most practical of stances for either of us but with a little spread of the legs I'm kind of straddling him and, even through our jeans my clit is feeling rather worshipful of him.

So worshipful in fact that I'm suddenly throwing caution to the wind, figuring that I don't really give a shit about my reputation any more here than I did back home in Phoenix. Steadying myself by backing up in to a tree I pull Edward towards me, two finger hooked in to the waistband of his jeans.

He peers at me all questioning and oversized eyes, which I respond to with a small, sly smile and a raised eyebrow.

We're staring intently at each other, our chests rising and falling rhythmically in tandem, and I'm pretty damn sure we're on the same wavelength. So I run a hand slowly…slowly down, tracing a route from his shoulder, lingering over a rock hard nipple before continuing the journey down to the bulge in his pants, eliciting a very satisfactory hiss and curse from him as I firmly press my palm down against his apparently rather well sized cock. I grin up at him, watching his lax jaw and closed eyes as I push my palm up and down rhythmically once, twice and a third time.

Then, when I'm ready to explode myself just from watching him getting his rocks off, through clothing no less, I expertly flick open the first and second buttons on his fly, shamelessly reaching in to his underwear to release the beast.

I can't deny I'm a little surprised when he jumps ten foot in the air and swears at me. It's not a reaction I can say I expected.

"What the…?" he blathers, pulling away from me looking startled, his skin obviously blazing red even in the near pitch.

I blink at him, wavering between righteous indignation and shame and embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, running a hand nervously through his hair, pacing away from me a few steps, "it's just a bit…"

"A bit what?" I choose not to look at him as I straighten out my vest and try to ignore the throbbing between the thighs.

"Well, I mean…we don't really know each other and…" he indicates the garden with a sweep of his arm, "this isn't exactly the most romantic of settings."

I can't help the snort that bubbles out of me at his statement.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise that boys needed candles and soft music and all that shit for a quick and dirty."

"A quick and dirty?" I watch his mind ticking over for a moment…and…he's got it, "oh. _Oh_. I didn't think…wouldn't you rather…?"

"Look forget it," I mutter, pretty pissed off with myself for thinking that this super hot boy with his super sized wang might want to get it on with the weird girl from out of town. But, actually, even more pissed off with him for getting me hot under the collar and cuffs and then not following through on the shit that he's started.

"No Bella, I don't want to forget it. I'm sorry if you thought I wanted to, you know…"

"Fuck?" Jesus, he won't even say it, much less do it. And the penny has dropped people. Yes, I have realised that there's more to this sudden attack of taking things slowly than a weirdly feminine preference for Barry White on the stereo and silk sheets under-ass.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" he looks sheepish, as well he might.

"You're not a fucking virgin are you Edward? Please tell me you're not a goddamn fucking virgin!"

I know the raised voice and slightly crazed expression isn't the kindest reaction I might have had but I'm freaking out slightly here.

He doesn't say anything, just shrugs and makes a mumbling non-committal sound.

"Shit, you _are_ aren't you? Your cherry is completely in tact, you're as pure as the driven fucking snow! You've never _done it_!"

"Alright," he moans, "is it that big a deal? We've not all lived in big cities smoking pot and making love to anything that moves."

"_Making love_? Oh Jesus, Mary and all the fucking Saints! Now I feel like some sort of comedy villain Edward. Thanks a whole fucking heap!"

I'm half aware that I'm ranting and raving like an idiot over something that isn't actually such a big deal. But I'm in shock from his confession – I mean the guy could get it on with any girl he wanted but he hasn't – and feeling like a total mega-slut for trying to climb on board a virgin after only having exchanged maybe a hundred words.

I take a deep shuddering breath and pull out my packet of Marlboros, dragging a cigarette out between my sore, swollen Edward-ed lips and lighting it.

"Would you take me home please Edward," I ask, deciding just to brazen the whole thing out, "I have a date with my vibrator, things to finish up here y'know."

He blushes furiously, readjusting himself before gallantly offering me his arm. It's a bit of a weird thing to do although I'm quickly learning that he does a lot of totally bizarre old fashioned things – holding doors, not having frantic sex with women on the grass at the houses of friends, saying please and thank you. That kind of shit.

We bypass the goodbyes, only waving to Mike who's sitting on the low garden wall looking deathly pale and shaking slightly as we skirt around the house and jump in to Edward's shiny Volvo.

"Look, Bella," he says when we're sat out front of Charlie's, the car idling in the glow of the porch light which the Chief has thoughtfully, or maybe suspiciously, left on for me, "it's not that I don't want to because, my God, I do, but I don't want to just have sex with you when we're drunk, at a party…"

"You're drunk? Seriously?" these Forks kids really can't handle their booze.

"That's not really the point," he sighs, ruffling his hair with a restless hand, "I don't know how things were with you before you came here but I want us to be together the right way."

What the fuck that means I have no idea so I just look at him, adding a little bit of a sympathetic nod for effect even though I'm still totally not getting this.

"What I mean is, perhaps we could date first? Meet each others parents?"

"You want Charlie's permission to do me?"

"Oh God," he puts his head in his hands.

"I'm kidding Edward," I roll my eyes, wondering if I've ever met anyone so straight laced and concluding that aside from Charlie no, no I haven't. "Look, I don't really do the whole 'dating' thing, it's just…it's not really me, ok? But if you want to hang out, see how it goes, perhaps…you know, _practice_ a bit more we could do that maybe?"

I move to open the car door but he leans over and puts his hand over mine.

"Hold on," he says and climbs out of the car, walking round to open my door. Like I say, weird.

"Thanks," I mutter, trying not to make him feel stupid for the whole door opening scenario.

"Thanks for coming out with me tonight Bella," he smiles, "I had a really nice time."

I can't resist breaking out the eyebrow and I follow it up by pushing myself up on my toes and kissing him, hard, on the lips, maybe slipping a little tongue in for good measure. And perhaps letting my hand wander, you know, _down_.

I pull away, wishing him a goodnight and jog up the steps to let myself in to Charlie's crappy little clapboard house.

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**A/N: reviews are nice...EQ x**


	3. Chapter 3

"Have you got any proof it was her?...well I don't like the way my girl gets blamed…yes, but I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt and I'd like to think that everyone else will too…"

I wake up from a dream in which I'm tying Edward to some railway tracks and twirling my moustache in an evil manner to hear Charlie on the phone, talking at the top of his goddamn voice.

"Shit," I mutter having a feeling that I know very well what the conversation is about.

I hear the phone slammed back in to its cradle.

"Bella! Out of bed, I need a word!' He hollers.

"Just a sec Ch…Dad!" I shout back, ducking in to the bathroom to do what needs to be done, not least a long drawn out shower to postpone the inevitable rage.

Eventually I meander downstairs, trying my best to look the picture of damn innocence but, I suspect, failing miserably. I stop short in the doorway to Charlie's living room. Not only is the chief there, stroking his moustache as usual, but Edward and his dad are sat with him. And, no surprise, they're making Charlie look pretty ratty.

"Hi…what's going on?"

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh. Shit. Edward has outed me for sexually assaulting him. He's pressing charges. _The bastard!_

"Bells, did you buy booze for the party last night?" Charlie cuts to the chase.

I breathe a sigh of relief. It's just the vodka. I'm not being taken down for assaulting Edward in a highly inappropriate manner.

"Chief Swan, I told you it was me," Edward murmurs and I bug eye at him. Not that there's any fucking way I'm going to contradict his claim.

"Bells?"

I shrug at them, throwing Edward a confused frown. He nods encouragingly at me.

"I had Mike Newton's mom on the phone. He's very unwell. He says both you and Edward bought the hooch."

"Hooch?" I snigger, "what is this 1922? Yes, chief I brewed up my own Moonshine and smuggled it in tucked in my suspender belt."

Edward cuts me off, "Chief Swan really, Bella really had nothing to do with it. It was all my idea."

Dr Cullen breathes in through his nose loudly, "well, if Edward says it was him he can take the resulting punishment Charlie. Looks like the Newtons have their wires crossed."

Dr Cullen is up, dusting off his hands as if that's that.

"Sorry Chief Swan," Edward wheedles, "it was a very stupid thing to do and you have my word it won't happen again."

Charlie gruffles and hitches his belt in response, "yes, well, alright Edward, stay out of trouble in future eh kiddo?"

"Of course sir. And Bella I'm very sorry that you've been implicated."

_Implicated_, as if we're talking a major crime rather than one bottle of underage vodka. Fucking hell.

I'm wondering what the hell Edward is up to. Not, by the way, that I'm a cynical bitch – ok, that's a lie, I'm absolutely the most cynical bitch around – but I'm pretty damn sure that nobody in their right mind takes the heat for booze buying without being totally up to something.

"Now Charlie," Dr Cullen is shaking hands with the chief, both of his wrapped around one of Charlie's, "I wonder if we might invite Bella to dinner tomorrow evening? Edward seems quite keen on having her to visit and well," he lowers his voice, "who are we to stand in the way of a young man's crush? Misguided attempts to get drunk or no?"

I'm not sure whether me or Edward is burning brighter but I ensure he knows exactly how I feel about this whole dinner announcement by giving him a serious evil eye, one eyebrow shooting so far up towards my hairline I swear I've pulled something.

Apparently he misunderstood the whole 'I don't date' thing.

"I'm sure she'd love to, eh Bells?"

_Yep, thanks Charlie, you're the Dad every girl wishes she had. Truly._

"I dunno, I've got a shit ton of homework and…"

"What time shall I have her over there?"

"I'll be happy to pick Bella up Chief Swan, say around six?" Edward butts in, all embarrassment forgotten as he grins at me slyly.

I huff and throw my arms up in the air in surrender, "tell you what Charlie, why don't you just let me know my plans in future, seeing as you're so keen on being my social secretary."

I stomp out of the room nodding curtly to Dr Cullen and totally ignoring Edward because I couldn't be more pissed with him about this whole scenario. _I do not _do_ meeting parents._

"Isabella Swan," Charlie's yelling after me, "don't you be so damn ungrateful young lady!"

I seem to be spending an awful lot of time slamming my bedroom door on Charlie's rants these days.

There's no getting out of it and, I'm not gonna lie to you, by Monday night I'm totally shitting a brick. What does a person wear to meet the parents of the dude you're trying your best to jump? I'm thinking it doesn't involve PVC or thigh high boots, but other than that I'm stumped.

I got so desperate that I actually involved Jessica in the dilemma. We're in trig together and I thought that if anyone could help she could. She's a proper girl-girl right?

If I had the power to turn back time I totally wouldn't have written that damn note.

_Jess, need help. I'm invited to the Cullens for dinner tonight. What should I wear?_

Not in the least joking, she literally would have fallen off her chair if I hadn't caught the leg of it with my foot in a rare moment of extreme coordination.

She made a squeaking noise and scribbled frantically on the scrap of paper torn from the back of my exercise book.

_OH MY GOD! Cullens as in __Edward Cullen__? Did he invite you? What are you going to wear?_

I rolled my eyes at her, wishing I hadn't started the conversation.

_That's what I asked you dude…_

She nodded sagely at my reply, tapping her pen against her teeth thoughtfully before writing what looked like an essay.

_It needs to be something respectable and kind of smart. No jeans! But not a dress. Unless it's quite long. Probably a skirt and a sweater is best. Do you have that? But make it a little bit sexy because you don't want Edward to think you're totally un-hot. And wear your hair down. Or kind of half up, half down. Definitely heels but not high-high heels. But not sensible dorky heels. Want to borrow something?_

I shook my head at her and balled the note up, shoving it in my backpack before anybody saw it.

No, Jessica was not the right person to ask. Nor was Ang. She just blinked at me in confusion and indicated her combination of black tutu, tights and Alexisonfire hoodie. Right. I was on my own…unless.

There is one woman who would know. One woman who lives for putting together outfits. One woman who loves nothing more than telling me my wardrobe is shit… dare I risk my sanity? Dare I risk my eardrums?

I do it. I pick up the phone and dial her number, knowing she's going to explode with excitement.

"You're meeting his parents? For dinner?" She's supersonic within minutes of picking up the phone.

"It's not a big deal Mom," I moan, "we're just friends."

"Well you certainly never got an invitation to meet a boy's parents in Phoenix Isabella."

"Let's not go there shall we?"

"Hmm," she grumbles, doubtless remembering exactly why it was she packed me off to Forks, "so what's he like?"

"I dunno Mom, he's just a boy. He's got legs and a head and all…"

"Do you like him? Is he _good looking_?"

"I don't know Mom, I guess he's not bad looking," understatement of the year, "look, I just want you to tell me what to wear. A little help here please?"

She sighs in exasperation. I know I've always been a great disappointment to Renee, not least because I don't give a shit about clothes and really don't want to talk guys with her over a tub of Ben and Jerry's finest.

"Ok Bella, open your closet darling."

I do as I'm told. Most of the stuff in it is crumpled in a heap on the floor but I don't mention that little fact-ette.

"So, ignore anything that's black. What are we looking at?" You know those films where someone has to tell someone else how to defuse a bomb? I'm pretty sure she's imagining herself in one of those.

"There's some gross pink thing which might be yours actually…and something green."

There's a pause, "and…?"

"No Mom, that's it. Gross pink thing. Something green."

"Isabella Swan, I despair. Right, so what's the 'something green'?"

I pull it out and scrutinise closely. It still has tags on and I'm not sure what it is exactly.

"It's kind of a sweater but it's long. And it's got a weird neck."

"A turtle neck?"

"No, it's sort of saggy and big…"

"That's a cowl neck honey."

"Right you are cap'n. The green thing has a cowl neck."

"Aha! Is it from the Gap?" Only Mom still calls it 'the' Gap. Damn it, only my Mom still thinks it's a cool place to shop.

"Yes, it's got the tags on it still."

"Isabella! That's a lovely dress, I can't believe you haven't worn it! I bought that for you months ago."

"It's not a dress Mom."

"It's a sweater dress darling. Wear that, with some leggings. Leave your hair down. And do you still have those black flats?"

"Yup," in the very box they came in oh Mommy dearest.

"Wear those."

"Okay Mom. Thanks."

"Have a lovely time darling."

"Hmm.." I hang up, still reeling over the idea of a sweater/dress hybrid. Who knew?

I'm still observing myself dubiously in the mirror when I hear Edward knock on the door. I think I look…okay. I'm just not me. So in defiance I quickly screw in my favourite earrings, a pair of silver skull and crossbone studs.

Charlie's settling in for a man-to-man with Edward when I jump down the stairs two at a time.

"Let's do this thing," I almost yell, grabbing Edward's arm and pulling him towards the door, panicking at the thought that Charlie might remind him to fasten his condom or something.

"You look nice Bells," he grouches as I whip past him, speed of sound.

I only 'humph' in reply.

"Try to be polite. And please, no swearing hon," he continues, waving us off at the door.

"Fucks sake," I mutter under my breath, letting myself in to Edward's car before he can do the weird door opening thing.

"You do look nice," he says as we pull away.

I glare at him and watch him wince as I sling my feet up on the dashboard.

"I look like Jessica fucking Stanley," I growl.

"You definitely don't look like Jessica fucking Stanley Bella."

"Look, this whole thing is very much not me Edward, so let's cut the crap. What the hell are you playing at?"

He glances at me briefly before returning his attention to the road, "I don't know what you mean."

"I mean that I told you that I don't do dating. If this is some kind of revenge for the other night…"

"Why would it be revenge?" He looks confused, his eyebrows knitting together as he tries to work out what I'm getting at.

"For the whole trying to get down and dirty in the Stanley's yard…look, I didn't know ok?"

"Why would I want to get revenge on you for that?"

"I dunno…" I glare out the window sulkily, "it's just mean is all. I don't like parents and parents don't like me."

"Carlisle loves you."

And me him. Let me count the ways…

"Really? Dr Cullen doesn't think I'm a bad influence on his precious son?"

"Jesus Bella," he growls, "no, Dr Cullen thinks that you are," (and he does air quotes with one hand) "exactly what I need."

"Christ on a bike!" I yell, pulling myself forward in my seat, eyes nearly popping out on stalks. Edward's stopped the car in front of the most awesome house I've ever seen in my life.

"This is our house," he murmurs, "it's kind of ostentatious, I know."

"It's fucking awesome is what it is Cullen!" I mean, the damn place has a turret. I swear to God, it's like a horror film house without the horror.

Before I can stop goggling at his crib Edward's around the car and opening my door for me.

"Er, thanks," I mumble, clambering out and smoothing down the dress-thing.

"Look Edward, I mean it, your Mom is going to hate me," I stop and address him seriously, "it's a proven fact that I can't control my mouth no matter how hard I try."

"Shall we let Esme make up her own mind?" He's steering me up the steps to the huge wooden front door.

"Esme?"

"My Mom," he shrugs, "my parents like us to call them by their first names."

"That's weird. Charlie totally hates it."

He opens the door then and we're greeted by a flurry of excitement.

"Isabella, it's an absolute pleasure to finally meet you," a petite woman with her hair swept up in an elaborate style and the face of an old school movie starlet is throwing her arms around me enthusiastically.

"Er, it's Bella actually…" I begin.

"Of course, of course," she croons, crushing my face between her hands, "is the Italian blood on your mother's side?"

"What? No…we're not Italian. I think Renee just liked the name."

"Of course she did, it's a beautiful name. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

"Thanks…" I don't know what else to say to this over-friendly, over-enthusiastic woman.

At the same time as she releases my face I'm grabbed by another person. This time a tiny girl who I think must not even be five foot tall. She looks like a pixie but a pixie dressed in a super modern outfit which, even to my eye, has got to be pretty damn expensive.

"Bella!" she sing-songs in this perfect tinkling voice, "I've been begging Edward to introduce us for so long!"

"You don't need a formal introduction Al," he sighs, making no effort to rescue me from the onslaught, "you're allowed to just go say hello to people."

"You know I'm shy Edward," she pouts and Edward snorts in response.

"This is my cousin, Alice," he explains.

"Cousin!" she spits, "I'm more like a sister."

"Nice to meet you," I smile, trying not to bolt for the door. Even if I wanted to I probably wouldn't be able to because Alice – who is really fucking strong for such a teeny person – is dragging me out of the hallway and in to the main living space of the house.

It's all one big room with a huge kitchen at one end and a living room surrounded by glass at the other, looking out on to the forest which the house is kind of buried in. Like I say, the place is unbe-fucking-leivable.

Edward's Dad is behind a counter chopping something up, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and his blonde hair falling in his eyes. Gah.

"Hi Bella, glad you came!" he calls, waving the knife.

I nod back, "thanks for inviting me Dr Cullen."

"Oh Carlisle, please," he smiles and I melt in to a puddle on the floor.

"Okay…well, your place is fucking amazing…I mean…sorry."

Carlisle and Esme, both working in tandem like some kind of well oiled kitchen machine now, laugh at my fuck up and thank me. Man, Edward's family are…unusual.

"Why don't you show Bella the rest of the house?" Carlisle suggests, "I'm sure she'd love to see your record collection. It's very impressive."

"I'm sure it is," I waggle my eyebrows before my appropriateness-filter has a chance to kick in. But instead of being shocked Esme giggles and says nothing.

"I don't have records," Edward comments, grabbing my hand and sending a spark of desire right through me, "I have CDs, only Carlisle was born in the 17th century or something."

We take the staircase to the first floor and Edward leads me a long a corridor to the back of the house.

"This is my room," he shrugs pushing open the door to another huge space. It's perfect.

"This is _not _normal," I shake my head, taking in the neat stacks of CDs and books, the spotless carpet and the straightened out bed sheets topped with – fucking hell – throw cushions.

I look at him, standing there all embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks back at me, sheepish. I let a slow grin spread across my face as an idea hits me.

Darting away from Edward I throw myself at his bed, tipping over a stack of school books on his desk as I go. Giggling I grab at the comforter, pulling it in to a crumpled heap before I stand up on the bed, in my awful ballet dancer shoes, hands on hips.

"What are you doing Bella?" Edward's face is panicked.

"No teenage boy should be such a fucking neatfreak," I explain, leaning down to grab one of his decorative cushions.

"What?" he asks, confused and indignant, "I like knowing where everything is!"

"It's weird," I laugh, throwing the cushion at his head. He ducks and it misses him, knocking a shelf full of CDs on to the floor.

"Esme put a lot of effort in to decorating the house…" he throws the cushion back and it strikes me right round the head. I screech and aim another one at him, this time managing to hit his shoulder.

"Edward Cullen, you're the most bizarre teenager in the fucking world. You need a lesson or two in being a kid," I'm bouncing up and down on the bed, my head narrowly missing the ceiling.

He growls, all low and completely sexy, and launches himself at me, grabbing my legs and pulling me down on the bed. I scream and try to push him off but he pins my arms down.

"And you, Isabella Swan, need to learn a thing or two about being good," he grins, his body covering mine and his lips inches from my ear.

"I'm always good," I quip, pushing him off of me with my knees and flipping us round until I'm straddling him.

"I get the distinct impression that you didn't get sent up here for the air."

"That's none of your business Cullen,"

We're doing this whole wrestling thing, both struggling to overthrow the other one. I have the feeling though that he isn't really trying. I mean, come on, the guy's got to be ten inches taller and, like, fifty pounds heavier than I am but I seem to have got him pinned which, honestly, is not a bad position to be in.

"Why so mysterious?" he frowns, suddenly a lot more serious despite the raging hard on that I know he has going on because it's poking me right in the thigh.

"Seriously Edward, it isn't that fucking interesting," I moan, not wanting to talk about any of this shit right now. Or, preferably, ever. Not with him.

"It's interesting to me. I know that your Mom didn't send you away just because of a tattoo."

"Do we have to talk about this right now?" I clamber off of him and sit on the edge of his bed, taking a whole lot of interest in my damn nails.

"I guess not," he's kneeling right behind me, "whatever it is though I promise I won't think any less of you."

Nothing like hitting the nail right on the fucking head.

"I don't give a shit what you think of me," I grumble, knowing that I'm completely lying but really hoping that he doesn't see through me.

"Oh," he gets off the bed and tries to straighten the comforter around me, "I thought…"

"Forget it," I mutter, "look, Phoenix is different to here. Things just happen, I dunno, faster I guess. It's not Forks."

"Well, well, well!" a voice booms as Edward's bedroom door is thrown backwards, meeting the wall with a crack, "I didn't think you had it in you little bro!"

Emmett is completely filling the doorway, rubbing his hands together and grinning widely.

"Is the concept of knocking to complex for your tiny brain to comprehend?" Edward snipes at him, glancing at me with an apologetic smile.

While I can't say I'm all that fucking grateful to be getting a rep – albeit with a dude I'm quickly learning is the proud owner possibly Forks' dirtiest mind – I'm almost thankful to Emmett for bursting in on the convo I really didn't want to have with anybody, least of all Edward. Because, it turns out, I seem to actually give a shit what he thinks about me.

"Dude, I didn't want you to embarrass yourself with your total lack of knowledge and preparation," Emmett grins, swaggering in to the room, ignorant of the waves of fury rolling off of his brother.

"It's alright actually Emmett, I'm prepared enough for us both," I grin, "but it's sweet of you to check in on us."

"What the hell happened in here anyways?" He's taking in the minor destruction that I've caused in Edward's previously immaculate bedroom.

I raise a suggestive eyebrow and Edward ignores Emmett completely, turning his back on us to straighten some books or some shit.

Just then, because, you know, the more the fucking merrier, Alice appears. She floats in through the doorway like she's actually walking on air and although her eyes noticeably widen at the scene in front of her she ignores it.

"Emmett…" she begins and he slaps the heel of his hand against his forehead.

"Oh shit yeah, I got distracted by all the sexing! Dudes, Esme says wash up now 'cause food's ready."

A few moments later I'm embroiled in one of the more bizarre conversations I think I've ever been involved in.

"I wouldn't call him psychic," Carlisle frowns, poking at his pappardelle with a fork, "although I suppose you might use the term ESP."

I raise a doubtful eyebrow, "I didn't think you science guys believed in all that paranormal junk."

He shrugs, "us science guys look for proof of what we believe to be true. My proof is Jasper here."

The doc squeezes the shoulder of the kid sitting next to him – I say kid, he's older than the rest of us by a couple of years but he looks young. Sure, he's tall but he's tons lankier than even Edward, let alone Emmett. And he seems kind of shy.

"This," Jasper murmurs, "is exactly why I prefer not to broadcast my abilities."

I think he rolls his eyes at me from under the mop of grown out blonde hair, which is falling in to his face as he leans over his bowl of pasta.

For a moment the Cullen family shovel food in silence, which seems kind of a rare occurrence, and I spend a moment with my thoughts, surreptitiously looking at each member of the family.

Carlisle and Esme keep glancing at each other and smiling. They're like fucking teenagers. Or characters from some lame sitcom. It's weirding me out, this whole perfect parents show, I'm totally waiting for one of their alien eye stalks to pop out from under their hair.

And they believe, like, really actually believe, that Jasper has some sort of psychic thing going on. He seems kind of sweet, but seriously, the idea that he can read people's emotions. It's something out of the fucking National Enquirer and I don't buy it.

The weirdest thing though – apart from Emmett – is that Jasper and Alice seem to have some kind of relationship. Not a cousin-brother relationship but something else. At least I don't think I'm imagining the gooey looks and loving touches passing between them.

"Emmett you're disgusting. Close your mouth when you eat will you?" It's the first time I've heard the only other seemingly normal person at the table speak. The sullen blonde isn't a Cullen you see, she's Emmett's girlfriend.

I mean, she can't be all that normal, what with the fact that she seems to find something attractive about the hulking mass of muscle currently drooling pasta sauce down his chin, but at least she isn't all damn serene and perfect like the rest of them.

"Sorry baby," he sucks a long piece of pasta up from his plate and it slaps him on the cheek, leaving a trail of tomato sauce across his face.

But instead of finding it as disgusting as I do the girlfriend, who was introduced to me as Rose, only rolls her eyes and wipes his face with her napkin. Maybe I was wrong.

"So, uh, how long have you lived in Forks?" I ask, digging for a conversation starter and averting my eyes from Emmett's horrific table manners.

I'm not sure they haven't always lived here but I'm pretty positive I would've noticed at least one of the Cullens on my enforced Charlie visits if they had. They're kind of noticeable.

"Ooh lets see," Esme hums, "how long have you been with us now Alice?"

"Four years in September," Alice replies with a smile, "it was September third, two thousand four."

"It seems like longer," Emmett quips and she leans across the table to thump him. He actually winces, confirming my suspicions that she's actually really fucking strong for a pixie.

"So it must be just over six years since we moved from Chicago," Esme continues, ignoring Alice and Emmett glowering at each other.

"Chicago? Huh." Well that totally screws up my theory that Edward's weird no-sex, tidy room, meet-the-folks way is down to your average small town mentality.

"It's a super place," Esme continues, "just not a place for bringing up children, not really."

"I guess you like it here in Forks then?" I can't help the surprised tone from creeping in to my voice. Who the hell moves out of a big city to live in this dump voluntarily?

"Oh yes, it's wonderful, such a sense of community. And so peaceful."

"I think I know every person in town," Carlisle adds, like it's a good thing.

I bug eyes at Edward and he snorts in to his food.

After dessert – peach cobbler, what else? – Edward drives me home. I argue with him about it, trying to insist on calling Charlie but I can see that it isn't beyond him to pick me up and put me in his car so I go along with it. Not that the idea of Edward using bodily force on me is an unpleasant thought but, you know, there's a time and a place.

"I hope that wasn't too strange for you," he says once we're pulled up in front of Charlie's place, "I know my family are a bit unusual."

I don't reply, not wanting to say anything offensive because, honestly, unusual is a total fucking understatement.

"Well, thanks for the ride. I guess I'll see you in school tomorrow," I go for instead.

"Oh. Yes. You're welcome," he's surprised apparently. Whatever.

We sit for a minute, not saying anything. And then when I make to open the door he stops me.

"You know, whatever it was that happened in Phoenix Bella, it doesn't matter to me."

Oh, smooth Cullen. Totally fucking smooth.

"Right," I choke out, trying to resist the urge to lick his face which is even more handsome than usual in the dim light cast by the dash display, "can we stop talking about it then?"

"If that's what you want."

"It is."

And then, thank you God, he's kissing me. It's all soft and sweet and I'm doing my best not to break out my sex-fiend side again even though he's not even giving me any tongue and I'm already getting a little hot and sweaty.

Edward's hands are on either side of my face as he kisses me for what could be twenty seconds or could be twenty minutes – I'm kind of losing track of time. It's not like any kiss I've ever had, he's slow and gentle and doesn't even try to get a hand under my dress. Even though I maybe just do a little experimental shuffle just to help the ridiculous sweater and dress concoction ride a little higher up the thighs.

It's not like me to let things linger like this but somehow it's even damn hotter than the other night in Jessica's yard and when he finally lets his hands drop I'm panting urgently and, no lie, it's not only my underarms that are soaking wet.

I'm so not ready for the kiss to end so I make a move to leap on him but Edward grabs my hand, stopping me in my sexual assaulting tracks.

Before I can totally kick off at him for his cockblocking ways he smiles and nods towards the house where, I now notice, the porch light is on. And it wasn't on just before. Oh, right. Charlie.

"I should, uh.." I cock my head at the house and pull my dress down awkwardly.

"Yes," Edward grins, "I suppose you should."

He seems, I dunno, regretful maybe, that I've got to go. So I allow myself an inner high five as he climbs out of the Volvo and walks around to open my door.

"I really am glad you came," he says and my mouth works before my brain.

"I didn't, but I don't think it'd take much if you wanted to..." I trail off indicating the car again with a sly smile and a raised eyebrow.

It takes him a minute and then, even in the near darkness, I can see that he's blushing.

"Thank you," I raise myself up on tiptoes and plant a tiny kiss on his lips, "I didn't have the worst time."

He recovers himself in time to offer to walk me to the door.

"I can probably manage the last twenty yards, but thanks."

The door clicks open then and Charlie's out, ready to poop our party.

"All ok here kids?"

I can't be sure but I think his gun might be loaded and just out of sight.

"Yes, of course, thank you Chief Swan. Just making sure that Bella gets in safely," Edward replies, ever the perfect fucking date.

"Right-o," good old Daddy Swan shakes his head in disbelief – I dunno whether it's the goodie two shoes act or the just making sure thing that he doesn't buy, "well thanks for dropping her back Edward."

I give him a last wave and, for some reason, skip up to the house to get inside. Seriously, the dude is having some wrong effect on me.

I'm just getting in to bed when my cellphone beeps with a text message – I eventually got Charlie to fix it up after my slight tantrum and it's working a treat again, faithfully delivering my two text messages a week. Both from Renee. Oh how I cherish those little snippets of Mom-ness.

I lean over and pick it up to read the message. Typical teen style, my heart does a little skip when it sees 'Edward Cullen' on screen.

_I don't think you're as bad as you think you are Swan._

I give it a minute before texting back.

_Actually I think I'm pretty fucking awesome._

It's not even a minute before the phone beeps again.

_You are. But that wasn't what I meant…_

I think about leaving it there but my thumbs have different ideas.

_I know. You're right, I'm actually very good._

__

I can imagine x

I stare at his reply, wondering if his message means what I think it means or if it's just my mind, which has increased in dirtiness since I copped a feel through his jeans, getting over excited.

In a pretty uncharacteristically disgusting move I read his messages back a hundred fucking times or something before I fall sleep, still holding my cell.

**A/N: thanks to those who have read and added so far. Please review! EQ x**


	4. Chapter 4

For the rest of the week things progress kinda weirdly. Edward starts picking me up for school in the mornings without being asked to. And while I'm growing used to the fact that he seems to think it's ok to just roll up at my place and demand dates and stuff, what I'm not prepared for is being sucked in to the bizarre world of the Cullen clan.

Because, turns out Edward's family convoy.

First morning after the enlightening dinner he rolls up in the Volvo and beeps his horn, much to Charlie's joy – a combination of being glad he didn't have to take me putting my muddy boots all over his precious fucking cruiser and clappy hands excitement at me having good, respectable friends - but it's only once I've got in and griped a bit about the situation that I notice that not only is Alice sitting in the back seat with a grin the size of Alabama plastered over her face but a great big fuck off jeep is idling down on the street with Emmett at the wheel and Rose, who appears to be filing her nails, in the passenger seat.

"If I wanted a fucking escort I'd have got Charlie to take me in the cruiser," I moan, waving pathetically to the jeep.

"Aw, Emmett's just excited Bella," Alice grins, leaning right over so she's literally squeezing between the front seats, "he likes you."

"You say that like it's a good thing," Edward elbows her back in to her seat.

"You're always so mean to Em, you don't know how lucky you are to have such great brothers." Alice sounds kind of wistful but I don't want to pry. Well, I totally _want _to pry but know that I oughtn't.

"Do you guys always pick Rose up?"

"Rose?" Edward frowns at my question and glances in the rear view, "oh right. No, she lives at our place."

"She _lives _with you, why?"

"It's kind of a long story," I watch Edward chew his bottom lip in concern and wonder why the hell he doesn't want to talk about it. And then I get kind of distracted by the fact that he smells all shower fresh and his hair's still wet and…

"Her parents threw her out," Alice pipes up from the back seat, like she could hardly wait to spill, "ooh, you guys should have plenty to talk about."

"Alice!" Edward shakes his head at me, "I'm so sorry Bella, Alice can be very tactless."

"It's fine. I guess us unwanted children probably should form some sort of alliance."

"I didn't mean…" Alice begins.

"Forget it."

We drive the rest of the way in silence, Edward glowering at Alice and me wondering just how much weirder the Cullens can get and whether I can get away with sniffing Edward's hair a little bit before we get out of the car.

"What are you doing Bella?" Edward shifts away towards the door as he pulls in to the Forks High car park and switches off the engine.

"Nothing! I mean, you just have a little bit of…" I pretend to pluck some fluff or something out of his hair, like the total fucking retard I am.

"K," he nods doubtfully, opening his door, "seems as though you were smelling me."

"As if I…huh…why would I…" I uselessly stutter, all indignant even though he can't hear me because, of fucking course, he's on his way to open my door.

I beat him to it, flinging the Volvo's passenger door open triumphantly. And, because I, Isabella Marie Swan, am completely incapable of doing anything without causing some kind of damage to somebody or something, hitting him right in the fucking face with it.

"Shit!" I yell, getting caught up in the seatbelt as I try to get to him. But instead of getting free I just get more tangled, cursing loudly as I attempt to get the fucking thing off of me. I think I've got it and make to get out of the car to see Edward, who's cupping his face in both hands and all doubled over like he's in real pain, but somehow I find myself on the blacktop, the seatbelt still very firmly looped around my only just recovered and now possibly out of action again ankle.

"Oh my god guys, are you ok?" Alice, who had gotten out of the car well ahead of us, is over to me in seconds, helping me up and checking that I'm ok.

While Emmett almost wets his fucking pants laughing at the spectacle and Rose just looks on, apparently appalled at my idiocy – fair point – Alice and Jasper start steering Edward and I towards the school nurse.

"Whadda hell were you doin Bella?" Edward gasps. His voice is all nasal and there's blood dripping from between his cupped hands.

"Opening the door?" I shrug, timidly.

The school nurse ushers us in to the little disinfectant smelling room and looks us both up and down. Then without a word she disappears again. I take a pew on the invalid bed and Edward leans over the sink, sort of groaning.

A few seconds later the nurse bustles back in, leaving the three of us with minimal fucking room to breathe, something that Edward's having a little trouble with already, especially since she's started shoving cotton wool balls up his nostrils.

"I think it's just a sprain," I say, hoping that I can get the hell out of there, the combination of blood and the gross Betadine stench is making me feel nauseous.

"Even so, I'd like Dr Cullen to take a look at it," she smiles back over her shoulder.

"By Dad's gummin?" Edward asks and I do my best not to giggle at his fucked up voice.

"It's either that or you go to the hospital," she replies sternly, "now go wait outside."

She ushers us back out to where Alice and Jasper are still waiting, like we need chaperones or palliative care or some shit.

"Ah, you look a mess man," Jasper drawls, trying to keep the smile off his face.

"Danks Jasber," Edward tries to look pissed but with half a roll of cotton wool up his nose and his voice like it is he doesn't pull it off.

"Hey Bella, look," Alice is bouncing from foot to foot and pointing at something on the school notice board.

Something the Cullen family need to know is that if it's on the school notice board it probably ain't all that interesting to me. Still, I wander over – I say wander, it's more the kind of Keyser Soze limp that'd make Kevin Spacey proud – to see what she's pointing at.

I look at the poster she's eagerly indicating. Then I look at her. She nods enthusiastically. I look back at the poster. I look around the poster to see if there's anything else she could have meant. Chess club…science fair…lost football boots…

"Cheerleading tryouts?" I ask, raising the eyebrow of doom.

"Sure," Alice chirrups, "I've got a whole lot of pep to put out there."

"No kidding."

"Try out with me Bella," she squeals, "it'll be so much fun."

I look at her with an expression that I hope suggests she's just grown an extra head, "Uh Alice," I whisper, "I don't know if you've noticed but I'm not all that…you know… 'go team!'"

"But I don't want to do it on my own," she pouts, looking to Jasper for help.

"It'd be a good way to meet people," he offers.

"_Cheerleading people_," I'm starting to think that these folk have seriously misjudged me.

"Please," she wheedles, grabbing both of my hands and sort of bouncing up and down as if she really need to pee, "please Bella, please please please?"

"Can't you get Rose to do it with you?"

"Be gad Ebbitt's nod ere," Edward says, pointing out my double entendre rather speedily. Alice ignores him.

"Rose wouldn't, she's too…well, it's not Rose's kind of thing Bella. Please! Pretty please with sugar on top!"

"What? Are we in elementary school now?" I quip, "look fine Alice, I'll go if it's going to shut you up. But don't blame me if my mere presence totally fucks up your chances. I don't know if you've noticed but I'm sadly deficient when it comes to pep. In fact just show me pom poms and I hurl like a bulimic after a muffin binge."

"Thank you," she nearly topples me over with the force of her hug – have I mentioned that she's really fucking strong for a pixie? "I'll love you forever for this Bella."

I only grumble in response and hop back to my seat.

"Seriously," she carries on, "you might even get to like it."

When Dr Cullen – Carlisle – turns up he quickly diagnoses me with a sprained ankle.

"Well that's my cheerleading career over before it's even begun," I mock grumble.

"What were you kids doing to get in to this mess?" he asks, pointing out the shocking state of my clothing, even more fucked up than it was before, and Edward's face which he's now checking out.

"Don't ask," I reply for us both, "let's just say that that condition we spoke about has struck again."

He nods sagely, recalling my concerns that I may be just a tad bit disabled but he keeps his rather luscious mouth firmly shut on the subject. I'm getting to like Dr Hot more and more by the day.

"Well Edward," he says, pressing on the bridge of his swollen and bruised nose, "this is definitely broken."

Ok, guilt isn't the word. I feel like a total fucking heel. I've smashed up Edward's pretty face with the door of his pretty car. He may never be the same again. Shit…he may even be (whisper it) _ugly_. Alright, so that's not likely, but he could definitely have a wonky hooter by the time the bandages his dad's slapping on his face come off.

"I'm so sorry," I wheedle, "I didn't mean to. Does it hurt a lot?"

"Id's kinda sore Bella, yeah," he mumbles, "bud id's ogay."

"I feel like a total shit – sorry Dr Cullen – what can I do to make it up to you?"

I know what he's going to say before he even opens his mouth and I wish I could reach right out and gather my words right back and jam them right where they came from. _Think before you speak Bella_.

"You gan gome oud on a dade wid be. A brober dade."

I scratch my head and fix my gaze on a point just above his head, my mind running through every possible way to get out of this. But I can't think of a fucking thing. And I broke the guy's nose.

"What? Sorry…erm, what was that?"

I can see Carlisle grinning even though he's got his back to me. Smug bastard.

"You heard be Bella. A dade," Edward's grinning. The nose can't be hurting that fucking bad.

I sigh, "I told you Edward I don't really date…"

"Ouch!" he complains, "gee dis dose really is hurdin!"

"Ok! Fine!" I fling my arms up in the air in surrender, "one date, but nothing fancy bucko."

"Ogay," he grins, pretending it doesn't hurt even though I can see him flinch, "I'll dee you donide ad eighd?"

"Tonight?" I begin but, well, fuck it, how bad can it be? "fine. Eight."

And lo and behold, at three minutes to eight he's at the front door, chatting to Charlie, who's got one hand on his gun while he eyes Edward.

See, turns out Edward Cullen was a-frickin-ok for a friend but anyone dating the Chief's daughter gets an eyeful of his weapon.

"Let's go before he shows you the cuffs," I grimace, trying not to look at Edward's bandaged up nose which is really fucking hard 'cause it's a total state.

"You're wearing that are you Bells?" Charlie asks, all dubious like. I look down at my ripped skinnies and black tshirt. At least I worked a pair of heels in to the look. Black studded ones maybe, but heels nonetheless.

"Yes Dad, I am. Why? Have you been hired as the next Stacy London?"

"Who?" he queries, "actually Bells never mind. You kids go have a great time."

Charlie meanders in the general direction of ESPN, shaking his head.

"Sorry about him."

"Why? He seems pretty cool," I'm quite pleased to note that Edward no longer sounds like he's holding his nose.

I ignore him, deciding that even I can't quite reach the levels of sarcasm required to respond to the statement that my father is 'pretty cool.'

"Where are we going then?" I ask, wondering what the hell there could actually be to do round Forks when it comes to dating. From what I can tell dates usually require some kind of destination, something that this town is seriously lacking in. Along with fun and sunshine.

"Port Angeles," Edward replies, glancing at me with that heart melting, thigh clenching smile that, by the way, is totally unaffected by the comedy bandage, "wait and see."

We travel the hour to Port Angeles in relative silence. I'm kind of happy just to stare out the window at the trees and the – big fucking surprise – lashing rain and just sitting quietly with Edward is weirdly soothing. Usually I'll make sarcastic comments and jibes to fill the silence with anybody but Charlie.

He pulls in to a spot outside a coffee shop on the corner of E 1st Street and Lincoln. We unstrap and both hesitate.

"Uh, Bella," he half smiles, "do you want to open your own door?"

"What? Worried I'll break something else?" I ask, not admitting that I was waiting for him to open the door for me, fearing a repeat of the morning's Laurel and Hardy-esque charade.

"You do kind of seem on a mission to knock me down."

"Yeah," I grimace, opening my door but not before checking for pedestrians because you never fucking know, right? "I don't know whether you noticed but I'm kinda clumsy."

"Does that mean you accept responsibility for running in to me at the surgery?" he asks, taking my hand. I'm not too keen on the whole hand-in-hand thing but just his touching me is doing funny things to my stomach so I let it slide.

"Does it fuck," I retort, "that was all you. So you bought me to Port Angeles just for coffee?"

He shakes his head and leads me inside the not all that special looking joint. The lights are dimmed and there are a shit ton of people crammed on couches and perched on chairs, all looking at someone shuffling papers and arranging themselves on a stool. I can't tell if it's a dude or a girl but he/she definitely has a seriously shiny head.

"What would you like?" Edward asks, steering me to the last remaining table with a pretty restricted view of ol' Spalding.

I order a two shot Americano and set about trying to work out what the hell is going on.

"Cool skin, warm blood…" the bald person who, it turns out, is a woman has started reciting something in to the microphone.

I look around to see if anybody else is finding this weird but no, they're all in total silence watching her.

"My body hits the ground with a mighty thud,"

Edward slides a cup of steaming coffee across at me and I throw him a questioning look. He just grins with this whole 'isn't this great' thing going on.

"What is this?" I hiss, but he just shakes his head and nods to the stage.

"The rose of my heart shrinking from a bloom to a bud…"

So this is definitely something to do with bad poetry. I'm not sure I can sit through baldy's contrived fucking rhymes for any length of time.

But everybody else seems to be loving her work, she finishes with something about being buried in mud and the crowd erupts in to wild applause, like she's the Lady fucking Gaga of poetry.

"Have you never been to a Poetry Slam?" Edward asked, sipping his latte.

I shrugged, "nah, in Phoenix we go to dates in pizza parlours and cinemas."

"I thought you didn't date?"

"I don't but I at least know that normal people just go and watch movies for their first dates."

"_First _date? First implies there'll be more…" he comments, breaking out the pant melting smile.

I ignore him and turn to look at the next performer clambering on stage, hiding my blush behind my hair. Long hair is very useful at times.

This guy is much better. He speaks with this French accent and has long, lush dreadlocks and this awesome retro ruffled shirt under a long leather coat that he doesn't take off even though it's hot as the devil's ass in this place.

I watch in awe of his ability to twist words, curling them in to each other in his low, heavily accented drawl. It looks as though he's improvising, just moving with a beat in his head, plucking rhymes from the air.

"Indecision  
stay…or go  
moving through a mind of black  
of white…  
gray.

"Kneeling silently…  
pray  
waiting for the answer  
for words…  
like ribbons  
decisions…"

"Bella?" Edward whispers.

"What?"

"Are you ok?" He's moved his chair around the table and is sitting next to me now.

"Sure…shhh," I hush him, ticked right off because I'm trying to listen.

He leans over and places his fingers under my chin, pushing upwards. My mouth closes with a snap. Ok, so I've been sitting here like some fucking mouth breather, gawping at the stage.

When the dreadlocked poet bows deeply and I join the rest of the crowd in jumping to my feet, clapping like an overexcited sealion at the circus.

We watch a few more acts but most are pretty lame. Edward notices me getting fidgety and bored – man, he's good – and places a tentative hand on my knee. I ignore the urge to respond by grabbing his crotch.

"D'you want to get something to eat?" he asks and I nod enthusiastically. I hadn't noticed that I was horse-eating hungry. Perhaps it was the shouting my stomach was doing that alerted him to my need for sustenance.

When we're settled in a little Italian restaurant, me throwing mushroom ravioli down my gullet like I haven't eaten in a week, we have the first conversation of the date. It's a moment I've been putting off knowing that as soon as I open my mouth my foot will be heading in right behind the pasta.

"So, are you having an okay time?" he asks, pushing his spaghetti around his plate, refusing to look at me.

"Sure," I say, "the poetry thing was interesting."

"Interesting good?"

I grin and pretend to consider my answer carefully, he still won't look at me.

"Yes Edward, it was great. Thank you."

"The movies didn't seem like enough for you," and I'm not kidding, he starts to blush. It shouldn't be cute but it totally is.

"I _am_ kinda gutted you didn't fly me out to Paris for dinner. Seriously, you're probably right, I'd have totally freaked if you'd have pulled the old popcorn trick on me…"

"The old popcorn trick?"

"Never mind, you just stay there in Pleasantville honey," I pat his hand in a sarcastic manner.

Truthfully I'm absolutely shitting myself with excitement. So the poetry slam was bizarre but Edward's right, I'm not the dinner and movies type. This evening has been ok. It's been more than ok, it's been great.

"Your first real foray in to the world of dating wasn't a complete disaster?"

"Wasn't? Are we talking in the past tense already?"

A huge smile spreads across his face and, at the risk of sounding like an Austen heroine, I swear to the lord above my heart stops. This is the problem see, I don't do relationships and in truth Renee is probably right – not that I'm gonna admit that to her – I need a bit of boy-free time after all that happened back in Phoenix. But Edward…I could seriously fall for him. Fuck it, I've totally fallen for him already.

"I promised Charlie I'd have you back at a reasonable hour."

I check my watch, it's after eleven, "shoot. Yeah, we should probably get back before he starts loading his gun."

Even though Edward drives like a bat out of hell on the way back it's well after midnight by the time we're standing on the porch and I can see the distinct outline of Charlie through the glazing in the door.

For the first time I feel nervous when faced with a boy-shaped human being. I've never, ever been in a goodnight kiss scenario before and it's giving me the sweats.

It's idiotic really, it's not like I haven't kissed the guy before. Hell, I was sensible to fear legal repercussions of our first physical encounter – I nearly ate him alive. It's just that I've never done any of this stuff the right way round and for the first time I'm the one on the damn back foot. It'd be so much fucking easier if I didn't like the boy.

"Well, thanks for agreeing to come out with me Bella," he smiles, "I had a nice time."

_Nice_. Fucking thanks.

"Yeah, me too Edward. Not that I had much choice," I reach up and poke at his bandaged nose.

"Shit!" he bats my hand away, and shields his face.

"Oh god, I'm such a retard," I groan, edging closer to the door through which I can increasingly pointed thumping about, "are you ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, forget it, could've happened to anybody…"

"No Edward, it couldn't." Still, it was nice of him to pretend.

He roars with an unexpectedly raucous laugh, "you're right. You are the biggest klutz I've ever met Bella."

I push my bottom lip out in a pout – it's either mad sexy or makes me look like I'm doing a bad impression of Mick Jagger.

Maybe Edward has a thing for stringy septuagenarian rockers, maybe not, but it totally does the trick. He runs his thumb over my lip and pulls me towards him.

My heart's thumping out of my chest as he leans down and plants a slow, gentle kiss on me.

I'm about to make like a bitch in heat and start humping his leg when the door behind us starts rattling. I leap a foot in the air and put as much distance between myself and Edward as the porch allows just as Charlie wanders out in a pair of sagging grey boxers and nasty thermal vest, a big toe sticking out the end of one disgusting old tartan slipper.

"Oh, hey Bells," he feigns surprise, "Edward. You kids having a good time?"

"Sure. Something we can do for you Dad?"

"No, no," he shakes his head, "just taking the trash out," he indicates a half full trash bag in one hand.

"Right, and that requires a gun does it?"

He quickly leans round the door and hangs the shooter back on its hook, muttering something about wolves.

Edward's shifting from foot to foot while Charlie stands there with no obvious intention of moving.

"So, I guess I'll be on my way," he says, backing away, "thanks for tonight Bella."

"Yeah, see you at school tomorrow. Thanks for the dinner Edward."

Once again Charlie wrecks my entirely impure intentions.

"Hey Bella, are you excited about today? I'm totally pumped!"

"Uh, I wouldn't say excited was the word," I reply as I slip in to Edward's car Friday morning to be greeted by an even bouncier than usual Alice, her hair pulled in to an elaborate array of tiny gem studded knots, her ass barely touching the seat.

The morning pick up has become a regular thing apparently but, thank God, Emmett hasn't considered it necessary to follow us at close quarters every morning, although he and Rosalie seemed to think awaiting our arrival in the parking lot is a must.

"What're you wearing for it?" she asks, and I indicate my old jeans and hoodie with a flourish. For once Alice Cullen is lost for words.

"Why?"

She recovers her composure, "lucky for you I've come prepared," she pats the oversized holdall sharing the back seat, "you can't wear _that _to a cheerleading tryout."

I've tried several times to explain to her that I have no fucking intention of actually getting in to the cheerleading squad but Alice really doesn't seem to listen to anything I say. Mostly she just smiles serenely at me and says 'okay Bella' whenever I start on one of my anti-pompom tirades.

I eye the bag with suspicion, "what's in there Alice?"

Edward starts laughing and can't get his breath to give me any hint. He's still wheezing when I leave him in the hall to go to English class.

I'm not sure whether I liked it better when I only had suspicions about what the hell was in that damn Nike branded receptacle of horror.

"I look like a fucking stripper," I complain tugging at the scrap of material Alice calls a skirt, looking around the changing room at the other equally scantily clad girls, who seem rather less concerned about showing the world their labia.

"You look awesome Swan, quit your whinging," she snaps, forcing me down on a bench so she can fix my hair.

Let's get this straight – yes, I can be a little bit prone to the odd overreaction. However in this instance I am not even slightly being unreasonable when I say that a whore is more adequately covered than I am right now.

As if the spray-on tank she's squeezed me in to wasn't enough, Alice has coupled it with a totally indecent skirt. And not only is it ass-showing indecent but it has sequins. Pink fucking sequins. Oh and the very same sequins make a wonderful trim for the elementary school style long socks. It's not even cute in a harajuku girl way.

"Where the hell did you get this shit from anyway?" I ask her – she's wearing the same outfit, only hers is pink with black sequins. Not having the full pink regalia is the only thing I have to be grateful for right now.

"I made it of course," she trills, still pulling at my hair. I've given up trying to fight and now fully accept that she's trying to murder me using embarrassment as a weapon but I do feel kind of bad that I've been totally slagging her creations up til now.

"Wow," I say, "I didn't know you made clothes."

"Oh yeah, I'm going to be a fashion designer," she says breathlessly, "imagine! Alice Cullen: New York, Paris, London, Milan…"

"Cool."

"What do you want to be Bella?" she asks, twirling around to check my hair from the front and doing something fluffy at my bangs.

"Shit, I'll probably be the first female president of the United States. Or," I stand and give her a twirl before bending over and flipping my skirt up to wiggle my pink hotpant clad ass at her, "a pole dancer."

She does this laugh which, I kid not, is fucking musical, like ringing bells or some shit.

"Right ladies," Lauren Mallory – head cheerleader and major bitch – is standing in the doorway in her full cheerleading get up, holding a clipboard in the team colours, tapping her pen on it officiously, "let's move through to the gym."

Just as we file past, Alice skipping all the way, she grabs me by the arm.

"Hi Lauren," I plaster a smile on my face to keep myself from sneering at her, "how are you?"

"Look Bella," she whispers, leaning towards me, "are you really sure you want to do this? You know, cheerleading's very demanding, it requires a certain _grace_…"

She trails off, smiling at me sympathetically, her head on the side like she's just told me I'm terminal. Which isn't strictly wrong.

"Doesn't being head cheerleader require a certain level of…oh I don't know…not being a total bitch?" I retort. It's not the best comeback and I'm sure I'll think of a million better an hour from now but I'm satisfied that Lauren's mouth is all bunched up like a cat's asshole.

"Great start to your tryout Bella," she sneers, flipping her long blond ponytail over her shoulder and stalking off, "you'd do well to remember who's making the final selection."

I follow along after her, maybe making the odd snarky face behind her back but nobody can prove it, and enter the gym where Alice is lined up behind a whole row of equally perky girls, full of enthusiasm and wearing increasingly garish make up.

"Are you sure I have to do this?" I ask Alice from the side of my mouth.

"Have you got anything better to do?" she asks.

"String myself up from the nearest rafter?"

"Come on Bella," she soothes, looping her arm through mine, "I'll be your best friend forever if you do this for me!"

"Alice, that's exactly what I'm afraid of," I scowl as the first wannabe steps up in front of Lauren and her cronies.

**A/N: poetry is very much NOT for my forte, I shan't apologise. The coffee shop I based the one above on is called The Veela Cafe in Port Angeles and, it turned out after I picked it, is next to the Dazzled by Twilight store. Coincidence or the guiding hand of Edward? Who knows...pleeeease review, even if it's to tell me how shite I am EQ x**


	5. Chapter 5

"This is embarrassing," Alice grimaces, talking out of the corner of her mouth.

She's not wrong. This girl, Kerry I think her name is, is leaping about in front of us like a hippo having a seizure. She's squeezed her 180lb body in to a kit as tiny as Alice's. I mean, total props to her for giving it a go but, honestly? it's not a pretty sight.

I wonder why the hell she's putting herself through this. I mean, fuck, I'm doing it for a friend but this girl's here alone, pulling moves last seen in…well, probably never in front of a head cheerleader who has bitched her way through anybody over a size zero, with legs in a shade anywhere below 'sand' on the Wolford hosiery colour chart or without an attitude only possible through the overuse of Adderall in the last twenty minutes.

"Shit," I mutter, "Lauren's gearing up for the putdown of the century,"

"Uh-huh," Alice nods, clearly unable to rip her eyes away from the scene unfolding as if in slow fucking motion in front of us.

Sweating and breathless, Kerry has shuddered to a stop, still smiling through her wheezing._ She _thinks she's done good. Lauren looks up from her clipboard, a smile like a fucking orthodontist's dream plastered all over her evil Bride of Chucky face.

"Kelly…" she begins, through her teeth.

"Kerry," the girl corrects her, oblivious that she's the proverbial prey in this situation and the snake in front of her is unhinging its jaw ready to strike.

"Ok," Lauren replies, clearly not giving a shit, "did you look in a mirror any time in the last week or so Kelly?"

Kerry, not bothering to correct Lauren who totally got her name wrong on purpose, nods her head, her smile faltering for the first time, "I…sure…of course I have."

"Riiiight," Lauren drawls, rolling her eyes totally fucking obviously at the girl sitting to her left, "so it hasn't escaped your notice that you're like, what? Four times the size of any of us?"

The bitch on Lauren's left – who was possibly cloned from the original uber-bitch in a Barbie pink science lab somewhere, they're that indistinct from one another – snorts a laugh out behind her hand. A nervous titter goes through the assembled wannabes too. Not one of these girls in their teeny skirts and tan tights want to be seen not getting the 'joke'.

"I thought anybody could try out?" Kerry says, her smile now gone, replaced by red cheeks and watery eyes.

"Anybody _can _try out sweetie, but most people, you know, _your_ size know better than to bother."

"Right…sure," Kerry nods, fighting off tears as she backs away from the microphone she was shimmying in front of three minutes ago.

"God Alice, I can't watch much more of this," I mutter, twisting the hem of my skirt in my fist. She nods in reply without looking at me.

"I know…but I can't…look…away."

Kerry's moving fast towards the door now, her arms folded over her chest and her head bowed in abject fucking shame. It's taking all my self control not to go headbutt Lauren on her behalf.

"Oh there is one thing actually Kelly," Lauren calls then.

I assume that pigs just flew or we we're now the last people on the damn planet because Lauren actually looks as if she might be about to have a change of heart. Kerry spins round all hopeful.

"If we need a really solid base for the pyramid, you know, we'll give you a call."

Lauren and her cronies fall about in peals of laughter at the sheer fucking wit of the joke which will doubtless go down in the annals of comedy history, causing Pryor, Kaufman, Seinfeld and Chapelle to bow down to its brilliance.

They're completely ignorant of the shocked silence that has fallen over the girls lining the bleachers. Kerry flees the room in tears, no doubt preparing for the remainder of her school life to be spent being reminded of this moment. Or to go start sticking her fingers down her throat.

"That was sick," I mumble, feeling my face heating with anger and indignation, "I should go punch her lights out."

Alice rests a bubblegum pink manicured hand on my knee, as if she's restraining me.

"Alice Brandon?" Lauren calls now, ignoring the whispers going round the hall now, "this should be good," she stage whispers.

Alice leaps up from her place giving me a last grin before trip trapping down the bleachers and to the audition spot.

In the short time I've known Alice I've learnt that she is, in so many ways, my polar opposite. Delicate and elegant, Alice has this incredible ability to move as if she's floating just a centimetre above the ground. I suspect she's going to totally nail this cheerleading thing.

I'm right of course. From the first cartwheel to the final splits, Alice executes a self-choreographed cheer that would've earned her a place with the Sea Gals. Lauren's pulling her cat's ass face while her co-cheerleaders applaude.

"Ok, thanks Alice," she shrugs, "we'll let you know."

I swear I hear her say something about it not being practical to cheer in strait-jackets as Alice walks off and I'm about to ask Alice what she meant but when I see the broad, self satisfied grin plastered all over her face I guess she hasn't heard it and decide not to bring her down by opening my big mouth and inserting my foot directly in to it.

"Isabella Swan," Lauren chuckles, "you're up dear."

"Fuck this," I whisper to Alice as I get up, my arms crossed over my chest. There's no fucking way I'm getting up to be laughed at by Lauren and her crew of sneering plastics. I'm going to go down, give them the finger and walk.

As I'm clambering inelegantly over the bleachers I manage, typical Swan style, to catch my pantyhose on something, sending a ladder tearing from ankle to crotch in one smooth move. Cool, if Courtney Love did cheerleading…

A cartoon light bulb pops on above my head then. Screw Lauren Mallory and screw her bullying. I decide right there and then that even if I'm going to waste and afternoon here I'm going to give that pom-pom slut some food for thought. I channel the Love herself and march right up to the microphone to grab it, pulling the thing towards me, rock star style. I'd be such a fucking awesome rock star.

"Rah rah rah," I deadpan, one eyebrow raised in the direction of the waiting cheerleaders, "it's interesting you know, this whole cheerleader thing."

Lauren leans back in her chair, crossing her arms and jutting her head to one side as if challenging me.

"I mean, cheerleading is supposed to be about school spirit right? Encouraging others? But Lauren Mallory," I point her out, like anybody doesn't know exactly who she is, "doesn't seem to have much school spirit really does she ladies?"

There's a pointed 'ahem' from the assembled try outs.

"And gents – sorry Tyler. I mean, sure Lauren can like, get her ankles around her ears, and by the way I hear she's had plenty of practice at that," I pause to allow the snorts and titters to pass, "but she and her team of fluffers don't exactly inspire a united student body do they?"

"How dare you?..." Lauren starts, standing up and slamming her clipboard heavily on the desk in front of her.

"Sorry Lauren, I apologise. I'll just perform my cheer and let you carry on with belittling the rest of the room."

I raise Alice's pompoms in the air, giving them a little shake.

"You might be good at cheering," I begin, still grasping the mic rather than performing any deadly moves. And I mean deadly in the most honest to goodness way. Me cartwheeling will undoubtedly end in somebody's hospitalisation and not necessarily my own.

"You might do the splits,  
"but while we're all in college  
"you girls'll stay here in the sticks."

I glance over to see Alice start clapping along with my impromptu rhyme which is weirdly, coming out of I don't fucking know where.

"You might be good at cheering,  
"you might be at all the games,  
"but while we're ruling USA,  
"you'll be popping out the babes."

By now most of the assembled crowd is clapping along with Alice. Even one or two of Lauren's girls are trying not to laugh. I fucking rule right now.

"You might be good at cheering,  
"you might look good on Kodak,  
"but while we're out at cocktail bars,  
"you'll be downing Prozac."

Lauren is bright red and fuming, her teeth gritted and her eyes narrowed to slits. I guess she's never been embarrassed by anybody before. And as much as I'd love to continue my assault I honestly don't want to make her feel any worse – that'd be bringing myself down to her level, right?

And I'm totally out of rhymes.

So giving the cheering crowd – some of them are _on their fucking feet_ man – a slightly sheepish salute I drop Alice's pompoms and stalk out of the auditorium, feeling half embarrassed, half stoked.

"So I heard about your cheerleading try out," Edward grins the next morning.

He's glancing sideways at me as he drives us both to school. We're late because I held him up trying to negotiate a sick day with Charlie. He's no pushover the Chief, so here I go, in to the lion's den, ready to face up to the fact that I just humiliated the Queen of Forks High in public. Today ain't gonna be pretty.

"Jesus, Alice told you about that huh?"

"Alice? Everybody is talking about it Bella, even Carlisle knew about it. And, er, you know someone got it on YouTube?"

"Ah man," I moan, sinking lower in to my seat.

"I think it's pretty cool."

He pulls up in the deserted parking lot and switches off the engine.

"And kind of hot too…" he continues, "mainly the bit where you're in a really, really short skirt and ripped pantyhose."

"Stuff can't be cool and hot all at once Edward," I correct, feeling a bit flustered. This is very un-Edward behaviour indeed.

"You know what I mean Isabella Swan," he breathes, his face now close enough to mine that I can smell his toothpaste. Mmmm, minty…

"We should, um, get to…class," I moan, giving in to him as he places his lips on the sensitive area right below my ear. Note to self: wear hair in ponytail more often.

"We're already late," he confirms, reaching over to turn my face towards his, "what's an extra five minutes?"

"Where's this coming from?" I ask, somewhat confused by this sudden interest in making out, old school.

"I figure if I'm going to hell I may as well do it thoroughly. Besides that whole cheerleader thing…." he cuts his own sentence short by pressing his lips in to mine, plunging his tongue in to my mouth forcefully. Dude's been totally holding out on me.

I respond fairly enthusiastically.

_Fairly!_ I pretty much climb under his skin and take up residence. There's something about Edward - I don't know what the fuck it is – but it's like he has this ability to totally addle my brain, turn me in to a raw, needy ball of sexual tension. I wonder if he's got some specialist Bella tempting pheromone that oozes out of his pores and makes me immediately need to remove my panties whenever I'm within a hundred metres of him.

Cunning bastard with his damn secret pheromones.

Our tongues are wrapping around each other over and over again, our breath and saliva mingling, our teeth knocking and lips bruising in this frantic kiss that seems to be somehow half fight. It's not like him to be so demanding and rough but I'm not complaining. At all.

Edward's left hand is on the back of my head, holding me to him while the other finds its way to my waist, trying to drag me bodily across the car to him.

And then he _growls_. I swear to God, this feral, raw, low sound just rumbles out of him, reverberating through his chest and out in to me. My breath catches and I melt in to a puddle of girly-goo. _Please, just drag me back to your den by the hair oh sexy cave-ward._

I'm so caught up in the moment that I fairly fucking leap out of my skin then when there's a sharp rap against the window.

"Shit," I mutter just at the same time as Edward sighs, "what does _she_ want?"

We pull apart reluctantly and I turn to see Alice peering in at the steamed up passenger side window, wriggling about like she really needs to pee. I'm thinking that the Cullen clan really need some education in not interrupting those rocks off moments.

"Shouldn't she be in class or something?" I complain, rearranging my ponytail and catching my breath while we watch Alice mouthing something through the window and waving a sheet of paper.

"Hmmm," he winds down the window, allowing Alice's high pitched screech to fill the car. It's like somebody just took her off mute. If only I really did have a remote for her.

"…just can't believe it, it's like something out of a book and you've just got to do it because it'd be such a shame not to take the opp…"

"What's going on Alice?" Edward asks, opening his door and stepping out on to the tarmac.

I follow his lead, curious to know what on earth could have her so excited that she looks liable to actually shit at any moment. I mean, I get that Alice is pretty manic in general but this is the most raptured I've seen her. Which is saying something.

Edward holds her arm still and grabs the paper right out of her clutches. His mouth drops open as he peruses it and then he roars with laughter. I mean really fucking roars.

I watch, unimpressed, as he doubles over tears streaming down his face, struggling to catch his breath. Alice is leaping from foot to foot at the same time, grinning madly at me.

I catch a glimpse of the paper and work out that it's the new cheerleading team sheet. It must have already gotten posted.

"You got in then Alice?" I surmise, "that's really fucking great! Don't let that Mallory cow shit on you though."

"I don't think she'll need to worry about Lauren," Edward gasps, pulling himself out of the crouch his laughter has sent him in to.

"OhmygodBellayoureallydon'tknowdoyou?Ican'tbelieveitit'sthebestnewsever," Alice screeches, grabbing both of my hands and jumping up and down.

"What the fuck's going on?" I ask, snatching the sheet in frustration, "don't fucking tell me I got…_fuck_!"

"Oh you didn't just get in sweetness," Edward bends to kiss me on top of the head gently.

"There is no fucking…how the fuck…ah fuck it Alice, what have you done? Is this a joke?" my face is burning and my hands are shaking with fury, "because if it is a joke it really isn't fucking funny."

"I swear to God," Alice replies, solemnly, placing her hand over her heart, "it's totally and completely not a joke."

"Does this mean you'll be wearing one of those tiny skirts every day Bella?" Edward asks eagerly.

"No it damn well doesn't," I reply angrily, "there's no way on earth I'm doing this Alice!"

"But Bella," she protests, letting her shoulders drop in disappointment, "don't you get it? You've started something! It's a revo-fucking-lution!"

"Let me tell you right here and now Alice, this is not a revolution, it's a recipe for complete disaster."

"Oh great one, will you not lead us to cheerleading victory?" she bows low before me.

"Very fucking funny," I snipe, "I did this as a favour for you and now look! LOOK!" I screech, "head…mother…fucking…cheerleader! Bella Swan is NOT head cheerleader material Alice!"

My head is still pretty convinced that the sheet of paper with my name at the very top of the list is some sort of elaborate joke. I mean, I humiliated Lauren and her crew, I can't walk without causing myself or another some sort of fucking injury...

"You have to do it Bella," Alice tells me, leaning against Edward's Volvo with her arms crossed in front of her, "don't you get it?"

"I don't get it and I don't have to do it," I sulk.

"Look, after your tryout yesterday the whole school was buzzing. Everyone hates Lauren Mallory but they're too scared to say it. You stood up to her and you changed the whole school at the same time Bella! Apparently the rest of them took a vote and kicked her off the team. Everyone wants _you_ to be head cheerleader."

"But why?"

"Because you look hot in the uniform…"

"Shut up Cullen!" I snap, turning my back to Edward.

"I guess they want a change, they want someone real. Look, bottom line is this," I can see Alice is really damn serious now, "you've changed the way kids here are thinking, you've ousted the Queen Bee and you've got an opportunity to make a difference. You just gotta do it kiddo."

"Fine," I grouch, "fucking fine Don Alice, but when this goes totally tits north it's on your head."

I scrunch the paper up and throw it in the waste bin, stalking towards the school building followed by Edward and Alice, who are whooping and clapping me. Fucking idiots.

I spend the rest of the day convinced that I never actually woke up this morning and this is all a really bad dream.

Everywhere I go people want to high five me or hug me. Which isn't great because I'm not that up for bodily contact unless it's with a certain crazy haired Cullen. But I grin and bear it, buoyed by the face Lauren is wearing, somewhere between escapee mental patient and vengeful Goddess. I approach her at lunchtime, gathering up all my balls to try and extend the hand of peace. Someone's gotta do it and now I'm supposed to be some kind of representative for the…_siiiigh, head cheerleader's a fucking hard job._

"Hey Lauren," I say, leaning on the chair opposite her in the canteen. Quelle surprise, she doesn't invite me to join her and her unusually small group of lunchtime companions.

"What?" she snarls, "come to have another go at me?"

"No Lauren, look I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. I totally didn't want to even try out, let alone be head fucking cheerleader."

Her face brightens, "so you're not taking it?"

"Well, er…" I clear my throat, "I am actually. You know, _voted for by the people _and all. But I kind of wanted to say that I was out of line yesterday, the whole cheer thing was kinda harsh. I mean, not that you didn't deserve it, the way you were with Kerry and all…"

"Look, what do you want me to say Bella?" she rolls her eyes and raises an eyebrow, "want me to congratulate you?"

"No Lauren, I just wanted to apologise, that's all. I didn't mean to make a fool of you yesterday and I definitely didn't mean to get made head cheerleader."

"Whatever," she returns to pushing her salad around on her plate, "enjoy it while it lasts. Before too long everyone'll realise what a freak you are and normality will be restored."

I breathe in deeply through my nose and stand back up straight, nodding slowly, "ok then, well I'm glad we had this chat Lauren. It's been…_great._"

"What are you? Like a sucker for punishment or something?" Emmett grins when I plop down in to my seat opposite him.

Most lunchtimes now me and the Cullens sit together. Sometimes Jess sits with us but generally she's too wrapped up in trying to snare Mike Newton and even Angela's tried out the new seating arrangement a couple of times. Thing is all it takes is one word from Edward and she turns in to jelly, whimpers, blushes and refuses to look him in the eye. Seems I'm not the only one affected by those evil pheromones.

"I'm taking on the mantle of Head Cheerleader Em, what do you think?"

Rosalie sniggers.

"Laugh all you like Hale," I challenge her, "maybe you should come try out for my little squad."

"No chance," she replies, crunching in to an apple viciously, "I don't want to be anywhere near your flick flack."

"Funny."

"I'd love to be near your flick flack."

My jaw just about hits the table and I'm pretty fucking sure I've misheard whatever it was Edward just whispered in to my ear.

"What did you just say?" I moan.

"You heard me," he replies, shit eating grin firmly in place.

"What are you doing after school? I'm coming over to yours," I inform him.

"You're not!" Alice shakes her spiky head, "we've got practice."

"Don't I get to decide when we practice?" I moan, not pleased in the least that once again I'm getting cockblocked by a Cullen. And right when Edward seems to be running on hormones too.

"As your second in command – I am your second in command right? – and official keeper of the pep, I strongly suggest that you follow the established practice schedule."

"Fine. But if I'm low on enthusiasm it's totally your fucking fault."

"Bella, you're always low on enthusiasm," she comments, spearing a slice of cucumber and popping it in her mouth, "we need to do something about that."


	6. Chapter 6

I want, with all my jaded black heart to be pissed off about it but somehow I can't help it. I'm loving the fact that my new status as head cheerleader has brought out some kind of thus far hidden horndog in Edward.

Every fucking day I have to pull on that incy wincy skirt and squeeze my tits in to a too tight sweater I'm sated by the knowledge that his eyes are going to be very firmly fixed to me.

Even so I can't help but feel a little fucking antsy. Because it doesn't matter how many times we make out in his Volvo on the way to or from school things just ain't moving forward. By which I mean that some things are very obviously moving, but those things just aren't being acted on.

Oh, you know what I'm saying.

And its not just ticking me off that I'm not getting any under the shirt action – hell, I'm not getting any OVER the shirt action – but he hasn't asked me on a damn date since the whole poetry slam affair. I mean, _no_, dating isn't my thing, but still no harm in being asked, right?

"You look lost in thought."

"Hmm," I reply, pulled out of my reverie by Alice pulling at my hair – this irritating thing she's invented for getting my attention.

"Did you hear anything I just said?" she complains, pointing to the pad in front of her with her pink pen. It's got a fucking gonk on top of it. _Sigh.  
_  
"Ugh, I'm sorry Alice," I grumble, reaching over to turn her notes so I can read them, "I told you this head cheerleader thing was a bad idea. I have absolutely no fucking idea about any of this shit."

On her pad is a whole bunch of really detailed sketches and notes.

"This all looks great to me Alice."

"So which do you think?"

Shit.

"Which what?"

"Right," she grabs the notepad and shoves it in her bag with dramatic flourish, "what the hell's going on Bella? You're on another planet today."

She's leaning forward with her chin resting on top of her peaked fingers like some school counsellor having it out with a serial truant.

"It's nothing, seriously," I tell her, lying through my teeth.

"Ok, so it's about my idiot cousin then," she nods sagely.

If I've learnt only one thing about this girl it's that she knows what any given person is thinking before they even think it themselves.

"Yes…no, it's not a big thing, seriously."

"Look, Bella," she tips her head to one side and pauses a moment, as if she's weighing up her words, "Edward, well, he's not all that…you know, well he isn't experienced with girls. I mean, he's never even had a girlfriend…"

"What the fuck?" I manage to keep my screech to a low volume, not wanting to draw the attention of the rest of the kids slacking off in study hall, "seriously?"

"Yes. I mean, there was Tanya, but that doesn't really count."

Who is this Tanya bitch and where can I hunt her down?

"Like, they weren't even together, not really," Alice continues, immediately picking up on my murderous reaction to this mysterious Tanya chick, "it was all Esme and Carlisle really."

"How d'you mean?" I ask mock-casual, while in my head I'm screaming '_TRAITORS!_'

"They were really good friends with Tanya's parents and what with her and Edward being the same age and all they kind of, I dunno, _hoped_ I guess? Nothing ever really happened. They went on a couple of dates."

A couple huh? A couple's one more than I got. Whore.

"So is she…?"

"The McKinleys moved away, like a year ago maybe. Esme keeps in touch with them but other than that…well, Edward doesn't even keep in touch with Tanya that I know of."

I nod, flipping the pink pen over and over in my hand. Casual, like.

"He really likes you Bella, much more than he ever liked her," the whole not-caring thing is clearly not washing with super-psychic Alice, "I think he's kind of intimidated by you though."

"He said that?"

"Of course not, Edward doesn't tell anybody anything. But it's obvious isn't it? You've walked in from some big city, acting like this total rock chick bad ass. You've got way more experience than he has and now, to top it off, you're the pinnacle of high school society too."

"I didn't ask to be."

"No, but look," she scratches her head thoughtfully, "I love my cousin Bella, he's so damn smart and even I can see that he's not all that hard on the eye – if you like that sort of thing – but he's a total 'tard when it comes to anything that he can't get from a book."

"So it isn't…you know, me?" I mutter, looking anywhere but directly at her.

"It definitely isn't you Bella. I've never seen him this gone over anybody. Really, he talks about nothing else. Honestly? I'm getting kind of sick of you."

"Yeah, thanks Alice," I flick the pen at her but, freaky pixie that she is, she catches it elegantly.

"You just need to be patient with him," she concludes, pulling her notebook back out and returning to her sketches, "but that doesn't mean that you shouldn't take control, give him a little encouragement."

I hum at her, pointing to the cleavage spilling out over the very low-cut yellow and blue sweater I'm wearing – serious, I look like I'm smuggling two bald dwarves in my top most days now - "the twins aren't encouragement enough?"

She sighs and rolls her eyes, "you know what Swan, sometimes I wonder if you aren't just as inexperienced as Edward is. This isn't 1953 you know, boys are allowed to look for more than just cleavage in a potential mate."

"Jesus, Forks must be rubbing off on me," I widen my eyes, faking shock at my anti-feminist assumption.

"At least something is," Alice chuckles quickly ducking her head to avoid the death glare I'd be well within my rights to throw her.

"Alice," I whisper, deadly serious.

"What?" she looks around, panicked by my tone, "what is it?"

"I should have made that joke," I tell her gravely, "it's this uniform. It's sapping my powers. I can't get Edward to want to screw me and I missed an obvious frottage pun…it can only be the uniform."

"You're such a nerd," she giggles, watching me bulge my eyes and hold my throat in an imitation of somebody being slowly poisoned, "come over to our place tonight, you can spend some time with Edward outside of the Volvo."

"I dunno…"

"Or you could just come help me make up a prototype for the pep rally designs…"

I screw up my nose, "fine, but I'm not wearing that," I stab a forefinger at one of her sketches detailing an extremely short halter dress in Spartan colours.

"Oh but..."

"Oh but nothing," I grab my bag out from under the table just in time for the bell to indicate the end of period, "no halters. I'll see you after dinner."

After Edward drops me off at the house, sending me on my way with a disappointingly chaste kiss – Charlie's cruiser is in the driveway and it seems he fears incurring the wrath of the moustachioed one - I head indoors to throw leftover lasagne in to the microwave.

"Smells good. What's cooking good looking?"

Charlie and I have this conversation every evening. He can't cook so it's been kind of left to me to feed him. He seems to think my ability to create a basic dish is some kind of mysterious lost talent, that lasagne is the holy grail of cookery and I am goddess of the stove.

"Just leftovers Dad," I tell him, "lasagne."

"Ah Bells, nothing just about it, your lasagne is manna from heaven for your old man. You must get it from your Grandma Swan because, I'll be honest with you honey, I can't imagine your mom improved all that much over the last fifteen years."

"She's still…ah, unpredictable," I grin, pulling a beer out of the fridge for him and flicking the ring pull with a chewed fingernail.

"Renee's a lot of things but cordon bleu she ain't," Charlie grins.

I find it kinda weird that my mom and dad can still be so cool with each other. I mean, I get that she left Forks, not him _per se_, but even so it strikes me as strange that they still have this level of affection for each other.

"Listen Dad," I say, knowing this isn't going to be an easy conversation, "Alice invited me over after we eat."

"Alice Brandon?" he asks, sucking an end of his moustache between his lips thoughtfully.

"Er, yes Dad, I don't know any other Alice," I replied, shaking my head.

"Doesn't she live with Edward Cullen's family?"

"Yeeees," I can see where this is going, "but I'm going to see _Alice_, we're working on some fashion project of hers."

"First cheerleading and now fashion? Jeez Bells, have we entered some kind of parallel universe?"

I give him the king of fucking eye rolls, albeit with my back to him while I slop his lasagne on to a plate.

"Look, I thought you'd be glad I was making respectable friends and being a normal kid. By which I mean doing things that fall in to your outdated and frankly unoriginal vision of normality," I grumble.

"Hey, pumpkin," he soothes, "I am. It's just I'm not all that thrilled about you and Edward. Your mom sent you up here for a reason you know."

"Dad, trust me, Edward is _not _like boys in Phoenix."

I know where this is going and I definitely do not want to be having this conversation again. Not with Charlie especially. Mortifying is not the word.

"Boys are boys wherever they are," he states through a mouthful of ragu, like a bad mannered man of the damn world.

"Edward and I aren't…_you know_," I whisper, totally not wanting to get in to this and kind of surprised that Charlie does.

"Hey, I don't want to know," he yells, dropping his fork and holding his hands up in surrender.

We eat in silence, our forks scraping against Charlie's dodgy old china the only noise aside from his occasional noisy beer slurping.

"Just for the record Bells, I do like Edward. He's a good kid."

"So you've said."

"I just don't want you rushing in to anything serious. Not after everything that happened in Phoenix. You don't need a relationship or…arrrrrhuuuum _sex_ to define yourself."

"Jesus Charlie, I didn't know you were Gloria Steinem's long lost sister," I choke out between shocked gasp and embarrassed giggle.

"It's Dad to you Isabella."

"Sure," I chuckle, scraping my chair back and grabbing the now empty plates, "I'll keep your sage words of feminist wisdom in mind."

While Charlie watches sport in the living room I get stuck in to some sudsy contemplation, elbow high in dishwater. So much for women's lib huh Dad?

He's right of course, I had promised myself that boys were pretty much off the agenda up here in Forks. After the shit had hit the fan back at Mom's place I kind of figured I'd get through the next year with head down and morals, not to mention panties, firmly in their fucking place. But I hadn't banked on the Cullen factor.

I mean, it's not like I'm in love with the guy – nobody falls in love over night, at least not outside of Renee's romance novels – but there's something that keeps me coming back to him. His persistence is endearing, the way he confidently turns up on my driveway every morning assuming that I want to ride with him, the way he texts me at random last thing at night with the unself-conscious and totally fucking sappy pronouncement that he's missing me.

But while Edward is bizarrely confident he's also totally fucking meek. His refusal to move things forward, physically, is bewildering and completely alien to me. He behaves like it's 1910 and we need a chaperone. Cute, in a Forrest Gump way, but wildly infuriating.

I hate not knowing where I stand, but that's what keeps me going back for more. That and the fact that his mere physical presence turns me in to a mass of boneless, hot flesh and panting want.

Is that what Charlie means by using relationships and sex to define myself? I mean, I wasn't lying when I told him that Edward was different to other boys. But so far I don't have a fucking clue in what way. He paws at me like a slathering Labrador regularly but doesn't seem to have any blueprints for getting me horizontal, let alone a map of the complex Bella Swan landscape. But equally he isn't being all that forthcoming in other relationship areas. Do I need to pin down his feelings for me, or have him need me physically for some kind of self-actualization?

I let the water run down the plughole, washing the suds away with it.

Upstairs I change out of the god-awful cheerleader garb and throw on something that makes me feel more like me. Pulling my hair out of its tie I let it fall around my shoulders in waves because I know that Edward likes it that way.

"What the fuck's got in to you Swan?" I hiss at the reflection staring back at me from my mirror, "since when were you so dick whipped?"

Scrapping my hair in to my hands I pull it back in to its ponytail angrily.

I'm seriously pissed off at myself for even considering wearing my hair 'how Edward likes it', I mean, I've never before in my fucking life given a shit about doing anything just for a boy. My motto is 'take me as you find me or fuck right off'. Well, strictly speaking I don't have a motto but if I did that would be it.

I realise then that I'm letting Edward totally have some sort of power over me. And, seriously? That revelation gets to me even more than the thought of his non-wandering hands.

Alice was right, I need to take control. I need to take the bull by the horn – literally _and_ figuratively speaking maybe – and move this shit forward.

All this over-thinking is totally un-Bella and there's no fucking way I'm going to let Dr fucking Hot Jr change me in to some insecure, girly…_girl_.

"See you later Dad," I yell, running down the stairs and plucking my coat and the keys to the disgusting old truck he uses for fishing from the hooks next to the door.

"Er, Bells," he shouts from his usual spot, nestled in to the butt indentation he's been crafting in the sofa for several years now, "I don't think we agreed…"

"I won't be late Dad," I escape and slam the door closed noisily behind me before he can argue. I figure he won't care enough to leave his beer and sport-of-indeterminate-genre unattended while he argues with me.

I'm right of course and I've got his truck started and out of the muddy drive without any Charlie interception. I slip an old mix CD of my preferred angry fem rock and crank up the ancient stereo.

"I tried to rock her in my cradle, I tried to know her out, I tried to mmmmnanana YEAH!" I sing-mumble along, not knowing all the words. Lyrics aren't my strong point, I still swear to the gods of emo that Brick by Boring Brick is about some dude called Doug the Chauffeur. So fucking what, I prefer my version.

I swing the truck in to the driveway to the Cullen house, it's hidden amongst the forest and I nearly miss the turn but manage to swerve in, narrowly avoiding some idiotic tree.

"Who the fuck put that there?" I shout over the music, pulling the truck out of a skid and back on course.

I manage to get up to the house without any further incident, turning the engine off and jumping down from the cab. It's freezing and I pull my stupid-ass Renee-knitted hat down over my ears and my coat around me, striding up to the front of the house.

The place is all lit up like a Christmas tree, lights glowing out of every window, I stop to bathe in the yellow light and take in the full awesomeness of this wonderful fairytale castle hidden away in the forest.

I can see the Cullens framed in the large window of the kitchen, Esme and Carlisle and their numerous children, waifs and strays around them, laughing together like they're the motherfucking Waltons. All except Edward. I guess he's probably off plotting some new way to bring me down.

I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and follow it to the lounge where I see him. Edward. He's leading somebody in to the room behind him.

The world slows down around me, pulling out and disappearing in some fucking Hitchcockian effect. All I see, in total slow motion silence is _them_ – Edward, his hair as wild as ever, his face deadly serious, pulling a girl I don't recognise by the hand. She's so pretty she could put Rose in the shade and she must be a foot taller than shortass ol' me.

I want to turn away, to go knock on the door like a normal human being would, but I can't, I'm stuck to the spot, rooted like the wet, mossy tress around me, new rain starting to pummel me where I stand, soaking in to the wool of my hat and dripping in to my face.

As I gawp at them, my mouth hanging open like a fucking idiot Edward pulls the model girl round to face him. Whatever conversation they're having must be really damn serious, the looks on their faces are pretty intense and she's gesticulating, talking over the top of him.

Oblivious to his captive audience of one, Edward reaches out and grasps the top of the girl's arms, pulling her in to him. My stomach drops about four fucking storeys as she drops her shoulders and rests her red-blonde head on his chest, letting him stroke her hair.

Angry tears are welling in my eyes, blurring my vision and I swipe them away to get a good look, because, you know, why wouldn't I want to get a really good fucking eyeful of some random Glamazon rubbing her boobs all over the guy I thought I was mine? Sucker for punishment, moi?

There's no fucking mistaking the situation here. Blondie's wrapped her skinny bulimic bitch arms around Edward's waist and he's resting his chin on her head, stroking her hair along her back, like two fucking bitches in fucking bitch love.

I stifle a scream and kick the tree stump next to me.

"Shit!" I holler as a pain shoots through my foot and up my leg. Sensible idiot that I am I decide to even things out by aiming my other Chuck at the stump. It misses and I slip, falling on my ass right in the fucking mud.

Tear stained and muddy I scramble to my feet, slipping across the wet ground to launch myself up in to the truck, throwing it in to reverse and turning the hell around as fast as I can in the ancient piece of junk that Charlie calls a car.

Pulling back out down the driveway, Fiona Apple angsting out of the fucking speakers, I glance in my rear-view just in time to see Alice open the front door and wave, frantically trying to get my attention. I gun the engine and get the fuck out of there, shouting along to the Apple.

"You say you don't spook easy, you won't go but I know and I pray that you will," this one I know every fucking word to.

"You're back early hon," Charlie shouts from the spot which I surmise he probably hasn't moved his middle aged ass from since I left.

"Yeah," I call back, popping the fridge open and grabbing the milk, "I was kinda tired after all."

I take a long gulp straight from the carton, even though I know that shit kills Charlie.

"Hey Bella," a soft voice makes me jump out of my fucking skin and I slop half and half right down my t-shirt.

"Shit Jacob!" I growl, eyeballing the kid in front of me, "I nearly had a fucking heart attack!"

"Language Isabella," Charlie yells.

"Fuck off Charlie," I mutter and Jacob grins widely at me, biting back a laugh.

"Dude, what the fuck happened to you anyway?" I ask, looking him up and down. _Kid_ was the wrong assessment.

"What d'you mean?" he asks, grabbing the milk carton I'm holding out to him and taking a swig. I watch his adams apple bob and the tendons in his neck tighten as he throws back his head. I swallow and force myself to look away, taking a minute to make a very important inspection of my fingers.

"Well, I mean last time I saw you you were like…" I hold my hands a few inches away from each other.

"Yeah, it's called growing up Bella," he laughs, brushing past me to put the milk back in the refrigerator and making my skin prickle.

"You er," I chew on my bottom lip, trying not to go totally fucking red but knowing it's too damn late, "you did pretty good at it Jacob."

"Everyone calls me Jake now," he smiles.

We stare at each other and suddenly his face falls, his brow furrowing.

"What the hell? Have you been crying?"

"What?" I mutter, rubbing my palms over my face, "no! No, it's just windy out there, got me all teared up, you know?"

"Oh, right," he replies, unconvinced.

We stand there, just looking at each other and I take the opportunity to check out this fine species of a man who, last time I checked was a scrawny kid with a high-pitched voice. I mean, Edward may have just totally fucked with my heart twenty minutes ago but I'm still human.

"You're kind of staring there man," he grins, flexing his muscles proudly under his tight black t-shirt.

"Uh…yeah…sorry Jacob. Jake, I mean. It's…I'm just…wow, you've really…"

He laughs loudly, a huge happy fucking sound which almost makes me forget about the Edward fiasco. Almost but not quite.

"It's good to see you Bella," he yanks me to him by the arm and envelopes me in the best damn hug I've had in years. His body is hot – _temperature _hot – and somehow having him around me makes me feel totally…safe.

"Watch it Jake, I don't want to have to get my shooter," Jake releases me, rubbing the top of my head with his huge palm, mussing my hair right up as Charlie squeezes past the two of us to retrieve yet another fucking beer.

"Give it a rest Dad," I eye roll him.

"Well, it's good to see you Jake," I nod, backing out of the kitchen and heading off to go feel really pissing sorry for myself.

"Yeah, it's good to see you too Bells," he replies, narrowing his eyes and looking at me a little too long, "not so long next time huh?"

"Sure, not so long," I echo.

Back in my room I throw my clothes on the floor and sling on my disgusting old sweats, jam my earbuds in and listen to some screaming rock music, screwing my eyes closed against the total fucking humiliation of the evening.

Just as I begin to unclench, my muscles finally stopping shaking, the full pain of the idiot foot settling in for the night, my cell beeps with a text.

Alice.

_What happened to you tonight? Explain! A xxx_

I'm about to ignore her but persistent little shit that she is I figure it's better to give her something.

_Remembered I had an assignment for Civics. Sorry._

I turn it off for the first time in weeks and let myself fall in to a fitful sleep.

**A/N: um, so Jake kinda just turned up there. He was never intended to be in the story, but that's just the way we be rolling on this rainy Tuesday.**

So let me know what you think. Are you as pissed of with Edward as Bella is? is she being a total idiot not waiting for an explanation? Do you just wish she'd just haul her arse over there and jump him? (I do!) Have you crafted your own butt-indentation on your sofa?

I love reading your reviews and they do serve as a wee whip crack so write to me and I might be motivated get on chapter seven quicker ;) EQ x


	7. Chapter 7

"So you and Jake really seemed to hit it off yesterday."

"I guess," I push my Cheerios round in their milk without enthusiasm.

"What's up with you this morning Bells? You don't seem all that cheerful."

"Don't know if you've noticed Dad but cheerful really isn't my default setting."

"Sorry I asked," Charlie snorts and continues with his morning coffee.

I sigh, trying to be reasonable although it really is the last fucking thing I want to be, "sorry Dad. I've just really hurt my foot. It's put me in a bad mood."

"How'd you manage that sweetpea? Or shouldn't I ask?"

"I kicked something," I swing my foot up on the chair next to me and pull off my sock.

"Jeez Bella, you need to get that looked at! What the hell were you kicking?"

"It was an accident," I lie, taking another good look at the purple bruise that has bloomed across one side of my foot during the night. It hurts like fuck even after I've downed a handful of painkillers.

"I despair of you some days," Charlie sighs, reaching for the phone.

"I know Dad, Darwin's got it in for me."

Charlie turns his attention to whoever picked up his call, "oh hey there June, it's Charlie Swan here. Listen, does Carlisle have a slot this morning?"

My ears prick up at the mention of Carlisle, "Dad!" I hiss, shaking my head frantically, "no, I don't need to see Dr Cullen!"

He waves me away with his free hand, "ten fifteen is just super June, thank you. It's for my daughter Isabella. In fact you may as well make it a regular appointment, she's shaping up to be a regular…ha, no I'm kidding. See you then June."

"I don't need to see Dr Cullen Dad," I complain like the whinging hormonal teenager I am. I know I sound mad but the last thing I want is any of that family around me, making nice while I know that they know Edward's getting it on with some fucking Barbie doll.

"I think you do Bells, now is young Edward giving you a ride this morning or shall I? I can come get you after first period for your appointment."

"You're making me go in for first period?"

"Sure am kiddo," he smiles, rinsing his toast plate and coffee mug.

"You're the worst father on the peninsula you know?"

"Sure, now you need a ride or not?"

I nod sullenly and follow him out to the cruiser, not particularly relishing spending any time in school.

§§§§§

I make Charlie drop me out on the street, not trusting him to refrain from giving a comedy 'whoop' on his siren as we pull in to the parking lot. So I'm stomping across the wet grass towards the main school building, hiding under the hood of my raincoat when I hear Edward's car pull in to lot.

It fucking kills me that I'm so lame that I know the sound of his car and that, even worse, I can't help turning around to watch him pull the Volvo in to his usual space, closely followed by the others in Emmett's oversized Jeep.

"Hey Bell-bo Baggins!" Emmett hollers, the latest in a long line of hilarious nicknames he's invented for me.

And even though nobody in a six mile radius could have failed to hear him I play deaf and blind, ignoring the five people now standing behind their over the top cars staring at me, turning quickly and continuing my squelch to homeroom.

For the first time I'm grateful that my first period class is entirely free of Edward's family.

"What's up with your foot?" Angela whispers as I hobble over to my seat in our Econ room.

"I kicked a tree stump."

"Why?" she raises two over-pencilled eyebrows at my admission, before dropping them in to a suspicious frown and hissing, "Edward?"

I nod but refuse to elaborate, pretending to be immersed in the creation of a list of elastic commodities from the Swan household. I imagine that 'Bella' would be on the Cullen list, what with demand for my presence falling so dramatically so suddenly.

"Bella," Angela whispers, nudging me roughly and making me scrawl an ugly black mark right across my fucking page in the process.

"What?" I snap, loud enough to make most of the class turn and gawp at us.

Angela ignores them all and carries on, "what the _fuck_ did Cullen do that made you kick a tree?"

I sigh and lay my pen down on the desk, "I saw him making out with some blonde bitch."

"Jesus," Angela's eyes pop open in surprise, "why the hell would he do that?"

"Fucking hell Angela, why do you think? He's…well, he's _him_ and I'm me. It was only a matter of time wasn't it?"

"Fucking pig," she snarls, "I should go cut his dick off right now."

"Don't bother, he'd probably just grow a new one to fuck her with."

"Who was it anyway?"

I shrug my shoulders and Angela, bless her purple striped knee socks, pats me gently on the arm.

"If you find out let me know dude," she grins, "I'll tie her fake fucking tits together as soon as I'm done with him."

I didn't know Angela could be so violent, "thanks Ang, you're a great friend. Surprisingly fucking scary, but great all the same."

When the bell rings for second period I hobble the hell out of there as fast as I can, narrowly avoiding Alice and Jasper who are too busy making googly fucking eyes at each other to notice me slip past them.

Charlie carries on ignoring my protestations all the way to Dr Cullen's surgery, stopping just short of throwing me over his fucking shoulder and carrying me in to the place kicking and screaming.

"I don't know why the hell you're so against this Bells, you embarrassed or something?" he asks with a wry smile, knowing very fucking well that I should be embarrassed by my total inability to stay upright and uninjured for more than a few minutes.

Before I can snipe at him though Carlisle himself comes out of his exam room to call me through, still looking all kinds of old man hot, even though by rights I hate him and his family right now.

"So what happened this time Bella?" he asks with a grin.

I roll my eyes at him, communicating my dislike facially, "I hurt my foot."

"Right, let's take a look shall we?" he leads me to the examination couch where I pull off my sock and yank my jeans up to show him the mess of blue and purple which is my foot, "how did this happen?"

"Stubbed it on a tree stump," I tell him, trying to wriggle my toes at his request but wincing in total fucking agony instead.

"That's some stub," he smiles, "I'd wager that you've fractured a bone or two there Bella."

"So I just ice it right?"

"No," he helps me down off the couch again and begins walking me to the door, "I'm going to go ahead and book you in for x-rays over at the hospital, I'm pretty sure we're gonna be splinting a couple of those toes for a while."

"I'd really rather just go home Dr Cullen," I complain, just wanting to get in to my bedroom and listen to really fucking loud music while I feel sorry for myself.

"I'm sure I can pull some strings and get you in and out of there as soon as Bella. And you know it's Carlisle."

"Sure," I reply, "thanks Dr Cullen."

He shrugs his shoulders before striding back in to his office to make the call, leaving me with Charlie's usual game of twenty questions.

"Ok," he says when he comes back out and crouches in front of me with a smile, giving it his best damn bedside manner, "I've got you in after lunch, is that alright for you Charlie?"

"Sure," Charlie nods, "I gotta get back to the office but I can duck out for an hour."

We get the details and Charlie drops me at home before taking off to the station to deal with important jaywalking and onion stealing crimes or whatever the hell it is he does there.

Ten minutes before my appointment I'm sat by the door in my sneakers, waiting for my ride when there's a beep on a car horn out front. I recognise it immediately and it sure as hell ain't the cruiser.

I limp over to peek out from behind the twee old yellowing lace curtains Charlie insists on keeping even though they're as old as me. And there, as fucking predicted, is the one person I least want to see right now.

I let the curtain fall back and pretend I haven't noticed him. I figure that once Charlie arrives I can get in to the cruiser before Edward can get out of his Volvo and over to me. I'll just need to limp real fast.

He beeps again. Where the _fuck _is Charlie? He's never late. Like, seriously NEVER. He can only have been seriously injured, or even possibly killed, attending to some kind of tragic Granny worrying crime.

_Beeeeeep._

Why isn't Cullen fucking off?

Come to think of it why isn't Cullen in school.

_Beeeeeeeeep Beepbeepbeep beeeeeeep._

Idiot.

I seek out Charlie's number on my cell, right there on the 'never called, doesn't know how to work a cellphone' list. But before I can dial there's a heavy rapping on the door.

"What?" I yell, flinging the door wide and crossing my arms, "what do you want Cullen?"

"Uh, I'm taking you to the hospital?" he says it as if it's a fucking question.

"No you're not."

"'Fraid so," he shrugs, "Charlie got caught up at work so he called Carlisle. Carlisle called me and, well, here we are."

"What the fuck is so urgent at the Sheriff's department?" I howl, incandescent with rage at my father for putting me in this position.

"I don't know but we should go get you x-rayed, you look in a lot of pain," Edward frowns.

"Oh, like you care rent-a-dick," I mutter.

"What?" he asks, trying to help me across the drive to his car.

I snatch my arm away from him and ignore his question.

"So you could've let me know you didn't need a ride this morning," he bitches once we're en route.

"I was pretty sure you didn't consider our arrangement to be a permanent thing," I retort, refusing to look at him, even though I can feel his eyes burning in to the side of my head.

"Oh," he sighs, "still, I waited a long time for you."

"_So _sorry."

I'm not.

We spend the rest of the short journey in silence and when we arrive at the hospital he insists on escorting me in. Like chivalry's his strong fucking suit.

He strides just ahead of me as we reach the desk and gives the receptionist sitting there tapping away on her keyboard one of his killer half smiles. She's got no fucking chance.

"Hi Debbie," he says in a low hospital-voice, "how are you?"

"Fine thank you Edward," the old ho-bag blushes, "what can I do you for…I mean…" she clears her throat and looks down at some papers.

Edward, of course, pretends not to have noticed her unintentional double entendre, "I've brought Isabella Swan, she has an appointment with Radiology."

I'm pretty pissed that he's up there pretending like I'm incapable of checking myself in but I'm too busy watching this Debbie chick – forty something with shelf-tits and lipstick on her teeth – trying not to ovulate on the spot to do anything about it.

"Sure," she hums, "you know where you're going don't you Edward?"

He nods.

"I'll arrive you then sweetheart," she breathes, not hiding the fact that she's totally ogling his ass as he walks back to me.

"Was that really necessary?"

"What?" he asks, bewildered.

"You know what," I gripe back at him, letting him lead me by the arm out of the reception area and in to the maze of corridors.

He comes to a sudden stop and whips around to look at me, "no Bella, I don't. I don't know what the hell you're talking about and, for that matter, I don't know what the hell your problem is today."

His face is red with anger and his fingers are digging in to flesh of my upper arms. He's really pissed.

"The way you behaved with that receptionist!" I glower, "you're such a…such a _slut_!"

He blinks rapidly, "excuse me?"

"Oh please, like you don't know what you're doing."

I can't look at him, I know that he'll be employing some kind of fucking mind-bending techniques to make me forget I'm mad and have me disposing of my panties in the nearest hazardous waste trashcan quick fucking smart.

"Bella does this have something to do with Angela?"

"What the fuck? Of course not?" Unless…_unless he's nailing her too_. I push the thought aside. I'm pretty sure Angela wouldn't do that. _Aren't I?_

"Oh. 'Cause she seemed pretty angry with me in school earlier."

"She did?"

"Mmm," he nods, ducking his head to capture my gaze, his ridiculous malachite coloured eyes narrowed almost to slits, "I'm pretty sure she uttered your name while she had me pinned against a wall threatening to, and I quote, 'make sure you never sully this planet with your virulent offspring'."

I open my mouth to deny all knowledge of the situation but get saved by the sound of a door being opened and footsteps approaching us.

"Isabella Swan?"

I turn to find a young woman in a white coat standing a few foot away from us, her arms crossed and her face a picture of concern.

Edward straightens up and sighs in frustration while I nod.

"Ms Swan, I'm Dr Walsh – Maggie – would you like to come through?" she continues, nodding her very red, curly head towards the open door.

"Sure," I begin, following her with Edward hot on my heels like a fucking Labrador.

"Is everything alright here Isabella?" she asks, holding the door and eyeing Edward as he squeezes in to the room behind me.

"It's fine," I reply, grateful to note that Edward's many and varying charms have obviously had not one iota of an effect on her so far, "I think I can manage from here actually Edward."

"I think I should stay…" he begins.

"Edward?" she asks, "Dr Cullen's son?"

He nods and shrugs in one move.

"Right. Well you might be treated like a celebrity elsewhere in this hospital but here in my room you're just another pain in the ass kid getting in my way. Unless Isabella has a particular desire for you to stay – which judging by what I just saw I'm guessing she doesn't – I'd appreciate it if you waited out in reception."

I stifled a grin, totally wanting to at least high five Dr Walsh, if not hip bump her, maybe with a little 'you go girlfriend' thrown in for good measure.

"Can you manage?" he asked me.

"I'll make sure she gets back to you safe and sound Edward. Now if you don't mind…" she held the door open so he could skulk out without another word.

"Thanks," I sigh, flopping down in to the nearest seat, "he's a fucking pain."

"A very good looking, rich, fucking pain," she grins, "who seemed very upset about whatever was going on out there."

"Yeah, well you're not the only one who thinks he's a good catch," I sneer.

"Ah," she grimaces, handing me my faithful old friend, the lead apron, "he's playing the field and you're not?"

"Something like that."

She sets me up and disappears behind her screen, still talking, "were you guys going steady?"

"No, not really."

"You need to keep that foot absolutely still Isabella. So, you want to talk about it? You know what they say about the counsel of strangers…"

"There's nothing to say," I shrug, turning my foot on Maggie's instruction, "I caught him with some dumb blonde."

"Nice," she sneers, "so what did he say?"

"Nothing, he doesn't know I know."

"Ok, we're all done," she emerges from her control booth and sits down, indicating that I should do the same, "are you sure you saw what you think you saw? With the dumb blonde I mean."

I shake my head, "I saw enough, you know?"

"Well, I'm no expert – the shrinks are upstairs – but I think it's always wise to get both sides to the story. Innocent until proven guilty and all that."

Did I think he had a reasonable excuse for having his hands all over some plastic slut? I didn't think so but I could see her point.

"From what I can see he really cares about you. I don't know if it makes any difference, but there aren't many teenage boys I see in here with that level of concern for anybody other than themselves."

"I guess," I mumble, taking the hand Maggie offers me and letting her pull me to my unsteady feet.

"I should walk you back down to your escort. Wouldn't want his lordship complaining to Daddy."

Christ, this woman has a bee in her bonnet.

"So I'll take a look at these x-rays and get on to Dr Cullen straight away. He'll have the results by the time you get to him."

Maggie walks me in to reception where Edward is sitting, tapping out a rhythm with his feet like an expectant father waiting for news, rather than some dude who gave the girl he fucked over a ride as a favour.

"Talk to him," Maggie whispers before turning on her heel, swishing out of the room with her white coat billowing out behind and her purple heels clattering on the polished floors.

The movement catches Edward's eye and he leaps out of his seat, rushing over to me.

"So?"

"I've gotta go back to your Dad for the results."

"Now? I can drive you."

"You really don't have to Edward. I'm sure you've got better things to do," I can't help the sneer that creeps in to my voice.

Before I can protest Edward is grasping my hand and dragging me out in to the parking lot, ignoring the tit-shelf receptionist's attempts to catch his eye.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on then?" he demands as we stand just outside the sliding doors of the hospital.

"I don't know what you mean," I totally fucking lie.

"I think you do," he hisses, his eyes flashing and his jaw tense, looking all kinds of fuck-hot, "you're behaving like a total bitch, Angela wants to castrate me and you didn't turn up to see Alice last night like you arranged."

"I did," I cut in.

"But you drove off without even saying anything. Why?"

"Because I'm not in to threesomes Edward, that's fucking why," I yell.

"What? Bella, please, what are you talking about?"

"I saw you with Pamela Anderson's younger, hotter sister, that's what Edward," I shout, no longer able to control myself, "I saw you through the fucking window. And you know what? It's fine, it's totally fucking fine, I know there's not anything _really_ going on here, between us, but, honestly Edward? I didn't think you were like that.

"Aside from anything else it's really fucking humiliating to find out the guy you're falling for, even though you're trying so damn hard not to, doesn't give a flying pigshit about you…"

Oh. That wasn't supposed to slip out.

"You're falling for me?" he whispers, his voice like molten chocolate and his face softened.

"No…I just…I…yeah, a bit."

"Wow," he runs a hand through his hair nervously, "I didn't think you were…"

"No obviously," I chew out.

"Oh Bella, it's not what you think," he shakes his head and chuckles, pulling me in to his arms. I let my cheek rest against the hard plains of his chest and listen to his heart beating steadily, just letting myself enjoy the feel of him, the hope that I've got it totally fucking wrong.

"Then who was the girl I saw you with?" I ask, my voice stifled by his shirt which I'm currently mouth to cotton with.

"Her name's Tanya," he begins.

My entire body freezes before I gather myself to push him away, shaking my head.

"Tanya? Motherfucking Tanya?"

"Uh, yes…you know her?" his brows knit in confusion.

"Yes! No…Alice told me about her. Her and you. Really fucking nice Edward."

"Bella for fucks sake will you shut up and listen to me for two damn minutes," he howls, stunning me in to silence with his sudden use of curse words.

He takes advantage of my momentary inability to form words.

"There's nothing going on with Tanya Bella, absolutely _nothing_. I don't know exactly what you saw but it definitely wasn't anything you need to worry about. And for the record, me too."

His face flushes red and he looks down at his toes, scuffing them in the dirt.

"You too?" I ask.

"I mean I'm falling…have fallen."

Even though he won't look at me now I kinda want to do a little fist pump. I restrain myself though, saving it for after his explanation about the Tanya thing. Because I'm still waiting on that one.

He leans in until I can feel his breath on my face, sweet and warm and totally fucking messing with my ability to think straight. Then he takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tipping my face to his.

"Listen Bella, I don't know why you keep me at arm's length like this or why you won't talk to me about stuff but please know that I won't ever hurt you. This…whatever it is…it's important to me. You need to trust me."

"It's not that easy…" I begin, but my words are immediately muffled as he touches his lips to mine, horribly fucking gently.

"Let's get out of here," he says pulling away before I can shove my tongue into his throat.

He drives us to Carlisle's surgery where his Father straps my broken toes up and gives me the same fucking look that Charlie breaks out every time I get myself injured in some ludicrous situation.

"So how _did_ it happen?" Edward asks as he helps me back in to the car.

"I'm done explaining it," I sigh, "but suffice to say I'll get the full story before I angry-kick things in future."

He shakes his head in despair.

"So are you going to explain Tanya or do I have to guess?" I demand, still not entirely convinced by his reassurances, even though my panties disagree.

"I wouldn't normally advocate skipping school but under the circumstances…"

"Your place or mine?"

Edward grins broadly, "mine? Everyone's out. And Esme's got some mean leftovers in the fridge."

§§§§§

He isn't wrong. We gorge on the kind of food that would totally boggle Charlie's mind. In fact it's the kind of stuff that Renee has often tried to prepare but always ruined in her own inimitable style.

Sat on opposite sides of the Cullen's vast dining table, completely stuffed and leaning back in our seats, holding our bellies, Edward and I eyeball each other, both of us waiting for the other one to speak.

"So…" we both start, breaking off to let the other speak.

"You start," he says, fucking gentleman that he is.

I run my finger around a bowl, gathering the last remnants of a goddamn amazing homemade hummus before popping it in to my mouth and sucking enthusiastically.

"Jeez Bella," Edward groans deeply, his eyes visibly darkening.

"What?" I ask innocently, although I totally did that on purpose.

He raises one perfect eyebrow, "you know perfectly well what Isabella Swan."

His growling tone and formal scolding travels straight to the cooch, but I struggle on, knowing that if I don't address this whole Tanya fuck up with him right we'll get distracted very quickly.

"So I was going to ask you what exactly you were doing getting up close and personal with that Tanya bitch…"

"She's not a bitch Bella, please," he interrupts.

"Fine _with Tanya_, period" I sneer.

"What exactly was it you saw?"

"Does it matter?"

"I guess not. Look, Tanya and I have known each other for a while. Her family are good friends with Carlisle and Esme," he rubs his chin in thought for a moment, "I guess Alice told you all this?"

"Yup,"

"And that we…"

"Yup,"

"Ok," he continues, nodding as if me knowing this is a good thing, "me and Tanya, we were never suited, not really, I mean, we're friends – really good friends – but that's it. The relationship was never really…well, it was never a physical relationship."

I inwardly jump for joy and can't help the little telltale smile that creeps out. I know that Edward sees it but the sneaky bastard says nothing.

"I had no idea Tanya was going to show up here, I swear, we got home from school and there she was. She's going through a really tough time Bella, she's here to get away for a while. I feel really bad for her, we've always been close," he shrugs, "I guess I'm a shoulder to cry on for her but, honest to God, that's it."

He's so fucking sincere the last bit of doubt I had in me disappears, sinking in to the depths of the misunderstanding pool without a trace.

"What happened to her?" I ask, curious.

He sighs loudly, breaking a breadstick in two but eating neither piece, "it's not really for me to say, you know? I know that sounds shitty, all things considered, but please trust me. I don't want to keep things from you…"

"No," I stop him, "I understand."

Shit, I don't want to get on to the subject of complete openness with him. I'm gagging to know what Tanya's dark secret is but I'm in no position to pull him up on keeping secrets.

He grins widely then, like the cat that got the fucking cream with a side of motherfucking fresh mackerel, "were you jealous?"

"Was I…? What?...No!" the blush that floods my face totally gives me away.

He stands up and comes around to my side of the table, pulling me out of my seat carefully.

"I think you were," he smiles, staring unblinkingly in to my eyes, "and you know what?"

"What?" I ask, my voice shaking even though I'm trying my best not to be affected by his proximity.

"I love that you're possessive over me."

He leans down snaking an arm around my waist, effectively bending me over backwards, before running his tongue across my bottom lip.

"And just so you know I'd kick the ass of any guy who even looked at you the wrong way," he whispers, finishing me off in one fell swoop.

With that I crash my lips in to his, forcing him in to a kiss that's all clashing teeth and wetness and bruising lips and tangled tongues. I press my entire body in to him, still holding my weight on my one good foot.

"Bella," he growls, and the sound is just as spine tingling as it was before.

He pushes his erection in to my stomach as I flatten my breasts against him as hard as I fucking can, it's like after the short interlude in our relationship we need to reaffirm our desire for each other. The hesitant touches and juvenile car kissing of the last weeks are forgotten and all there is now is need, rough and intense and just…well, really fucking desperate.

I'm the first to break away and he sort of groans at the separation. But rather than calling things to a halt I simply take hold of his hand and lead him to the stairs, ascending to his room – like I'd forget the location of my own personal mecca.

Once inside I spin around, as elegantly as I can on my bandaged toes, and continue things exactly where we left them, exploring his mouth with his tongue, running palms up and down the firmness of his chest as his hands creep down my back, eventually grabbing my ass and pulling me right against him.

I only vaguely notice him kick the door closed behind him as we continue kissing and I reach up to tangle fingers in to that mass of ridiculous copper tangles, the pulling it causes making him sigh. Interesting…

Letting my fingers work their way around to the back of his head I grab a handful of hair and tug – not hard, just enough to garner a reaction – and as I hoped the reaction is a really fucking good, if unexpected one.

"Fuck, Bella," he moans in to my mouth, leaning further down to grab me, pulling me up until my feet leave the floor and I'm cooch-to-cock with him.

Alright, I can work with this…

Look, I'm not one for being shy and it's not like I've had anything like this kind of action from Monsieur Hotness of late, so you can't really blame me for throwing my legs directly around his waist, crossing my ankles behind him.

Spurring him on, I drive my ankles in to his denim-clad ass and he turns us, still entirely taking my weight, before pressing me against the just-closed door.

Pleasantly crushed between the hard, wooden door and the warmth of his body I begin moving, just slightly, allowing myself to feel him against my centre. He presses urgent kisses along my neck as I do so, causing me to shiver and pant, my breath coming out of me in gasps.

"I would never be unfaithful to you, silly Bella," he murmurs, letting his lips trail over the shell of my ear, "never."

His words have the unexpected effect of making me flood with warmth, pushing me closer to the release which has been building up time and time again since I've known him but which hasn't been allowed to completely take me over.

"Can we…" I gasp and he leans back to look at me, his green eyes now so dark they're almost black, "can we move to your bed?" I ask, blushing yet again, which is really fucking dumb considering that I've been shamelessly rubbing myself against his dick for the last five minutes.

"No," he states simply, brushing one finger along my cheek, "if we do that I swear to god Bella, I won't be able to stop."

"I don't want you to," I gasp, allowing myself to resume my desperate writhing, sure he's even harder than before, if that's even possible.

"I know you don't," he replies, his voice as low as I've heard it, "but please, wait for me."

I nod, agreeing with, if not understanding his point. I mean, it's just sex isn't it? Just a function, just a way to release tension, make each other feel good. No, not good, fucking amazing. I know it will be.

"This is ok though?" I ask, sliding myself up along his length, dampness seeping through my panties in to my jeans.

"Yes," it comes out as little more than a breath, "this is…oh god…this is definitely ok."

He moves with me, grinding in to my pelvis as he continues kissing my face and neck, holds tightly on to my ass with his hands, his fingers pressing in to the soft flesh under my pants.

"Oh God, Edward," I moan, feeling the tension and warmth build low in my belly, my fingers and toes numbing. I move faster, pressing in to him harder, feeling his hardness pressing so fucking perfectly in to my pelvic bone, grinding in to my clit, until I come, burying my face in to his neck to muffle my shouts, eventually shuddering to a halt as the sensation becomes too much.

After a moment he gently lowers me to my feet, pulling me in to an all encompassing hug.

"Fuck," I swear, pressing my face in to Edward's chest as he plants small kisses on the top of my head.

"That was…" he murmurs, "you looked…fucking amazing."

I sneak a look up at him and he's blushing underneath the sheen of sweat he's worked up holding me against the door.

"What about you?" I ask, painfully aware of the still rock hard problem between the two of us, "you didn't…"

"It's ok," he grins, "you can owe me one."

I step back and swat his arm playfully, "fuck you Cullen!"

He raises an eyebrow at my choice of words and I mirror him.

"Don't fucking give me that look Edward, you're the cockblocker in this room."

"Yeah, so I want my first time - _our_ first time – to be perfect. What's wrong with that?"

"Why? Why is it so important to you?" I ask, still completely confused at why any teenage boy should give a shit about it.

He bends to look intently in to my eyes, "why is it so _unimportant _to you?"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: A pre-warning, without giving too much away, that this chapter contains reference to a taboo relationship. So if you're offended by that kind of thing don't read. But also don't assume I'm ok with it either! **

He's just staring at me, still holding both of my much smaller hands inside his, waiting for me to answer him.

I know at some point I'm going to have to tell him the truth, I'm going to have to reveal to him that I'm not exactly…oh fuck it, he knows I'm not exactly as pure as the driven snow. But to admit it to him out loud, I dunno, it makes it all too real I guess. I like Edward and I as we are. I like that he doesn't know all about me and I like that I get to start again with him. I know as soon as I tell him all about Phoenix, about all the shit that went down there, his opinion of me will change and our relationship, such as it is, will change too.

"Fuck," I mutter, pulling away from him and pressing the heel of my hand to my forehead, "it's not that easy to explain."

"Why don't you try?" he asks.

I flop down onto his bed, trying to ignore the gaze he's fixed right on my fucking face and the pounding of my own heart.

"Back home," I start, knowing that things were about to get a lot more complicated but knowing that I have to do it, have to tell him the whole story, "back home things are kind of different to how they are here."

"Bella I know that, I lived in Chicago for most of my life remember?" he sits down next to me but I still refuse to look at him, not wanting to watch him as he realises exactly who I was…am.

"Just let me talk ok?" I see him nod out of the corner of my eye and take a deep breath before carrying on.

"In Phoenix things are different, you know. It's…well, it's like everything moves so much fucking faster, kids grow up quicker. _I _grew up quicker.

"Renee – my mom – she's not all that adult. I mean, when I was younger it was like I was the parent and she was the kid. She was always in and out of relationships, changing jobs and hobbies and then when it all went to shit she'd just fall apart. I ended up picking up the pieces after the bastards let her down or after she spent all our fucking grocery money on bungee jumping or whatever the fuck that month's craze was."

"It sounds like you didn't have a great childhood," Edward murmurs, touching my hand with his fingers lightly.

"Nah," I sigh, "it sounds worse than it was. Renee can be a lot of fun, we used to do all kinds of crazy things. Like this one time she just got me up at five am to drive to Hollywood because she got it in her head that she needed to have her picture taken in front of the sign. So we drove seven fucking hours non-stop, took the picture, had dinner and drove home again. I know it sounds weird but that was the kind of thing we did. All that shit like the World's Largest Ketchup Bottle, we used to do that too.

"I just think she thought of me more as a friend than as her kid. She had me so young and all… Anyway, so when I got a bit older she started leaving me at home alone more and more and I guess I got bored. I started hanging out with the skater kids and we'd smoke a bit of pot, whatever. It wasn't a big deal or anything, but before long I got bored of that too. I guess I was just looking for some company maybe, something so that I wasn't just sitting about at home, waiting for Renee to come in from another awful fucking date with another douchebag."

I sneak a look at Edward but he's just watching his forefinger tracing up and down the side of my palm, his face giving away nothing.

"One night I was walking home from the skate park, it was late but I wasn't expecting Renee home anyway. I ran into these guys walking through the centre of the city, they'd obviously been drinking but they weren't wasted, you know?"

I recount to Edward the whole story, the three men teasing me and whistling as I walked past, the way one of them had run up and walked alongside me…

_"Hey girlie, where you headed?" he asked, linking his arm through mine without invitation._

__

"Just home," I mumbled, pulling away from him. I could hear the other two laughing and calling to the overly friendly long-haired man to leave me alone.

"Why?" he questioned, still keeping pace with me and ignoring his companions, "it's still early."

"I guess."

"We're hitting a club, why don't you come along?"

"I'm not old enough to get in," I smiled, "but thanks for the invitation."

"You're old enough if you're with friends of the owners…"

Against my better judgment I stopped and turned to him, "what club?"

"The Coven," he grinned, obviously knowing that I would have heard of it – The Coven was just about the hottest place in Phoenix and I knew plenty of kids who had tried, and failed, to get in. Even over 21s struggled to get through the doors, it was that popular.

"The new place on East Washington?" I asked, pretending not to care but already knowing I was going to go with them. They seemed harmless enough and going to a club sounded so much better than going home.

"That's the one. Come on, come have a couple of drinks with us, we won't bite."

I nodded, "ok, why not?"

"Awesome," the long-haired one held his hand out, "I'm Marcus and these two losers are Alec and Felix."

Alec rolled his eyes, "sorry about him."

"It's fine, I'm a people person. Bella, by the way," I shook Marcus's hand.

"Ah, Italian, just like me!" he exclaimed.

"The name is, but I'm about as Italian as mac and cheese," I admitted, following the lead of my new friends downtown.

We arrived at the club a little before midnight and Marcus, Alec and Felix led me straight past the queue of waiting revellers.

"Hey Demetri," Felix shoulder bumped the doorman who held a clipboard and wore an earpiece.

Demetri looked me up and down but waved all four of us through without a word.

I followed my new friends through the crowd and past the bar to a door marked 'private'. They knocked and waited until a small girl – she couldn't have been a woman – with pale brown hair opened it and allowed us in.

"Marcus!" an older man, long, black hair pulled back in to a ponytail, wearing an expensive looking suit, stood behind a desk, a broad smile on his face.

"Just thought we'd say hi," Marcus replied, "this is my new friend, Bella. Bella, this is my uncle, Aro."

"Hi," I gave him a small wave without moving any closer.

"Hello Bella," he said in what I surmised must be an Italian accent, "how old are you beautiful?"

"I wouldn't bring her in if she wasn't 21 would I?" Marcus answered before I could say anything.

_"Alright, but it's _my_ license boys, don't forget that. Wonderful to meet you cara mia," Aro made a shooing gesture and we left, back out in to the hot, dark club where we couldn't hear each other speak over the loud music._

__

The three boys bought me beers in between dragging me on to the dance floor where I eventually let myself go, dancing with my eyes closed and my arms thrown up in the air, not caring how I looked. I knew I was drunk but I also knew I wasn't so drunk I didn't know what I was doing, just enough to relax and enjoy myself, to let my inhibitions go just a little bit.

That had been the first night I had spent at The Coven but it wasn't the last. The next weekend Marcus invited me along again and we spent another evening in much the same way, this time with his cousin Chelsea, a leggy blonde with a pierced tongue and flowers tattooed across her lower back which she wore a short top and low slung jeans to show off.

Before long Marcus, Felix, Alec, Chelsea and Alec's girlfriend Heidi – another far too good-looking girl, with long hair and awful taste in slutty clothes – were my closest friends. We spent all of our time together when Chelsea and I weren't in school and Marcus, Alec and Heidi, who were all enrolled at ASU, didn't have classes.

"I guess they didn't really think about how my hanging out with them affected me – I mean, it wasn't their problem right? But my school work started to suffer. I had always been a fairly good student but I was slipping and the teachers started to notice. Renee got called in to talk about it but she wasn't all that worried at that point, she just told me to deal with it."

"Did you?" Edward asks. I've almost forgotten he's there and his interruption makes me almost fucking jump out of my skin.

"I'm here aren't I?"

"Right," he nods, "sorry. Carry on."

"Felix and I started dating. Well, not dating exactly…in the traditional sense. I mean, there were no fucking dinner and movie nights," I continued.

_I felt an arm creep around my waist from behind, a hand sliding under the hem of my thin lace shirt._

__

"Hey Felix," I sighed, used to his advances by now.

"You look pretty hot tonight Bell," he breathed, right in to my ear, making me shiver. I let him run his cold fingers – weird thing, Felix always had such cold hands – higher until they were brushing the underside of my breasts, naked without a bra, my flesh immediately prickling at his touch.

"I need to pee Felix," I complained, reaching to pull his hand away and rearrange my clothes, "you think I'm standing around this corridor for fun?"

"Fucking hell Swan, why are you so icy with me?"

I rolled my eyes at him as this pretty, drunk girl stumbled out of the toilet cubicle I was waiting for, her gaze alighted on Felix and I caught her taking the time to throw me a glare before I shoved past her and locked myself in.

I sat on the toilet, or rather hovered just above it because the drunken skank had peed over the seat, taking care of business before rinsing my hands in the sink and exiting to find Felix and the drunk girl still stood outside.

"Vicky," he whispered, pushing her fire engine red hair out of her face, "you're a mess doll, how much have you had?"

She stamped a foot in frustration and pouted, apparently completely unaware of my presence, "just a bit Licky, not so much that I don't know what I'm doing."

Licky?_ I stifled a giggle, not just at her pet name but at her voice – it was high pitched and whingy. It should have belonged to a small girl, not a fully grown woman who was currently grabbing at a man's crotch outside a nightclub bathroom._

__

Felix leaned towards her then, murmuring something I couldn't hear before darting out his tongue to caress the shell of her ear, all the time his eyes trained on me over her shoulder.

_I'd never had any feelings towards Felix. He was a friend, he got me in to clubs and he bought me drinks and that was about it. It wasn't that I disliked his advances but I'd never considered him to be somebody I _wanted _to be with. So why then was I suddenly filled with jealously so fucking strong it was probably turning my brown eyes a burning shade of green?_

__

Without saying anything I turned and walked quickly away, hearing the redheaded bitch giggle before I let the door slam shut and my ears fill with the thumping bass of the track blasting out of the speakers.

Unable to spot Chelsea, our only other companion that night, in the dense crowd I stalked up to the bar, ordered two Jagers, which I promptly threw down, cringing against the burn in my throat, before I made my way to the middle of the dance floor.

I don't know how long I danced alone for, ignoring the various men who attempted to join me, but eventually I felt familiar frozen fingers on my waist.

_"What have you done with your whore _Licky_?" I sneered, loudly enough to be heard over the music._

__

"Victoria?" Felix replied, his eyebrows shooting up, as if he was surprised at the force of my words, "I called her brother to come get her. She puked man."

"Directly on you I hope."

Felix moved closer, until we would've struggled to pass a sheet of paper between us, both still moving to the music.

"Jealous Swan?"

I shook my head in what I hoped was a disparaging manner, "of course not."

The song changed from a sultry, slow beat in to something faster and the crowd rushed the floor, crushing us between sweaty bodies and forcing us impossibly closer.

"Wanna get out of here?" Felix bellowed in my ear, making himself heard over the noise.

I nodded and let him lead me out of the club and in to the street.

I don't know what made me do it – looking back it was probably jealously, although I had never responded to Felix's attentions I was flattered by them, he was a good looking guy, huge and muscular, his bulk and his face alike getting him plenty of attention both at the club and at the restaurant where he worked. Seeing him with Victoria, I had felt annoyed. Annoyed that he was giving her the attention he normally paid to me and annoyed that he hadn't pushed her away. If she hadn't been unwell I wondered how far things would have gone.

"You walking Bells or want me to get you a cab?"

It was the same question he asked me every night now, quickly learning that 'your place or mine?' would be met with a swift knee to the crotch.

"No," I smiled, looking up at him from under my lashes.

"No, you don't want a cab?"

"I want a cab," I clarified, "but I want you to take me home. To your place."

He blinked at me, raising one hand to hail a passing taxi at the same time as roughly taking my arm and half dragging me to meet it.

Once on the backseat he turned to me, "sure?"

I nodded, emboldened by alcohol.

That night at Felix's apartment in Scottsdale was my first time. It hurt like hell but he didn't seem to notice, grunting away on top of me while I lay there, flat on my back, deciding that I was glad to have got it over and done with.

From then on I went back to Felix's place regularly, or we did it in his car. Sometimes he'd drag me in to the bathroom at The Coven and other times I'd catch him as he closed up the restaurant he worked at. I started to enjoy it and, as far as I was concerned we had a relationship, he liked me and I thought I might love him.

I was sixteen and naïve.

"So one day I went over to Volturi – the restaurant he worked at, it belonged to Aro's brother Caius and did this goddamn amazing ravioli. Anyway, I thought I'd surprise him, 'cause usually I called first to check he was closing alone. But I got to know his schedule and knew Thursday nights he'd normally be locking up.

"I turned up just after midnight I think and like I expected Felix was there. I went to knock on the window, to get him to let me in…"

Edward holds my hand tighter, as if he knows what's coming.

_Just as I raised my hand I saw something. First it was just a flash of red, but then I focused._

__

Victoria.

I don't know what made me stop myself from knocking but I waited, watching as Felix leaned his broom up against a wall and turned to grin at her.

I knew that grin only too well. It made him look like a wild animal stalking its prey, like he might be about to attack. I knew that grin and I knew what came next.

He grabbed at her waist, bending her backwards and kissing up her neck before she pushed him away with one eyebrow raised. Then without missing a beat she bent over one of the tables and hitched her skirt up.

A yell caught in my throat. I was so furious I knew I should have been smashing through the window and beating the shit out of both of them but all I could do was stand there, letting tears roll down my face as he unbuckled his jeans and drove himself in to her.

Just as I was gathering the strength to do something Felix looked up and caught me gawping.

Without missing a thrust he grinned and held up a hand, mouthing "five minutes".

"That…that _bastard_!" Edward swears, gripping my hand even tighter, "how could he do that to you?"

"We never said we were an exclusive thing. It was my fault really, I let myself think that what was happening meant more than it did."

I risk a glance at Edward. He's absolutely fucking furious, his green eyes flashing and his cheeks burning red as he pushes himself up and starts pacing like a caged lion, opening and closing his fists.

"I ought to find that son of a bitch and…and…" instead of completing his sentence he roars and smashes his curled fist in to the wall.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" I exclaim leaping up and grasping his wrists to stop him from doing any more damage.

"Nobody should treat you like that Bella, nobody," he says quietly, his breathing ragged.

"Fuck Edward, it wasn't Felix's fault. He didn't know how I felt."

I don't know why I'm defending Felix, I've wanted to smash the fucker's face in for years. I figure Edward coming on all fucking Giant Haystacks isn't helping anyone though, least of all Esme who now has a mother of a hole in one of her walls.

I give him a minute to calm the fuck down and we sit silently looking at each other.

"What did you do?" he eventually asks, his face full of sympathy, as if I fucking deserve an ounce of it.

"Fuck all," I shrug, "what could I do? Felix had made it pretty damn clear where we stood. I didn't see him again after that. I just felt so fucking stupid. I stopped going to the club and only really saw Chelsea – we were at the same school, so we kind of bumped in to one another in the halls. Other than that I couldn't face any of them, I just stopped returning calls and eventually they all stopped trying to reach me."

Edward wraps an arm around me and tries to pull me towards him but I tense, staying stock still.

"Don't feel fucking sorry for me."

"Why? You were treated really badly. You lost your friends!"

I shake my head, "they weren't really friends, they were just some dudes that could get me in to a club and buy me a fucking drink."

He raises a doubtful eyebrow but stays quiet.

"After that I pretty much went off the rails. I had got to know plenty of doormen and bar staff so I could go to a fair few places in Phoenix and get wasted, find some guy to dance with and…well, you know."

"How many?" Edward asks, then shakes his head as if he's changed his mind, "sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"A few," I whisper, not even sure myself of the exact number. I'd been drinking a lot.

"And your Mom found out?"

"Pretty much," I confirm, "first thing was the tat. I had my fake ID by then and managed to convince some guy in some parlour to do it even though I'd been drinking. Me and some random girl decided to get matching tattoos," I laugh but it sounds hollow, "I don't even fucking know what she was called.

"As far as I'm concerned I was just having fun you know? I mean, fuck, I'm young right? I can look after myself, I'd done it for fucking years anyway with Renee never being around.

"She took the tat as a cry for help, totally blew up at me, 'you need to see a doctor', 'you're out of control', all that bullshit. But she soon forgot about it, she met this new guy, Phil, and things got serious. She was away a hell of a lot because Phil plays ball for a living and she'd just follow him round like some fucking lap dog."

"It doesn't sound like she cared all that much," Edward hums.

I shrug, looking down at my hands twisting around each other, "I don't know man, she just had her own life."

"But she didn't send you away for the tattoo.."

"No but I started fucking up more and more. I got caught smoking weed at school and hauled in front of the disciplinary committee, I got suspended for that one. Like that's a fucking punishment, Renee was working in the day and with Phil at night, I had a free fucking pass to do what the hell I liked.

"I mean, sure, she was pissed at me and I got a total fucking earful a few times but I didn't give a shit. I just carried on smoking, I went out to clubs and bars when she was away and I slept around.

"You see to me sex…it's not such a fucking big deal Edward. You think it's going to be this life changing experience, all fucking rose petals and satin sheets but it really isn't at all. It's sweaty and it's noisy and it's just a fucking release you know? I mean, what could possibly be romantic about all those bodily fluids?"

"Wow," Edward sighs, "way to burst my bubble."

"Well, it's true," I rant, "I don't think I've ever had a romantic fuck in my life."

His eyes open wide at my choice of words, "_I_ wouldn't fuck you."

"No, I've noticed," I grumble.

"That's not what I mean. When we do I want it to be something romantic and special for both of us, not just sweaty…uh…writhing."

"Huh, you've seen too many movies."

He ignores me, "so you were having a ton of sex, smoking drugs, drinking and getting suspended? But your mom still didn't send you away?"

I nod, "nope, she carried on ranting at me for a few days, trying to be the mom, then disappearing again. Eventually Phil moved in. Things had got serious and they were talking about getting hitched. They were around a lot more so I had to sneak out or choose times when they would be away to do my…to be badly behaved.

"Then there was this weekend when they'd headed North, Phil was playing some game against a team up there. I'd been seeing this guy for a while and once Renee was out of my fucking hair I called him to come over."

_There were three sharp raps on the door and I leapt out of my seat where I'd been waiting, kind of nervously. Henry and I had fooled about plenty but tonight I figured it was time._

__

"Hell Isabella, couldn't you get to the door any quicker? You know this is a risk for me."

"I got there as fast as I could," I told him, hoping nobody had seen him waiting and hoping he wouldn't stay pissed at me.

"I know you did," I breathed a sigh of relief as he cupped his hand under my chin and tipped my face to him, "it's just such a bad idea for me to be here."

"You're here now, and nobody's at home."

He looked around Renee's messy living room, "may I…?"

"Sure!" I wasn't used to being so tongue tied and awkward around boys. But then, Henry wasn't a boy, "want a drink? I'm pretty sure there's some beers in the kitchen."

Henry smiled up at me and reached out a hand, "I'm not here for a beer Isabella."

As usual his voice dripped over me like honey and I felt myself melt a little bit. The thought of his hands on me, without the worry that somebody might catch us, sent a thrill right through my body and I let him pull me down in to his lap.

"You're so beautiful Isabella," he said, stroking my hair back from my face, "I really don't know what you see in me."

"Don't be silly," I let my lips touch his gently and we kissed, at first slowly and carefully but then with more abandon until my fingers were at the buttons of his Oxford shirt and I could feel his arousal pushing against my thigh.

"Would you like to…um…go upstairs?" I asked, feeling like a nervous fucking idiot.

He nodded and lifted me off of him before letting me lead the way. I hesitated at the door to my bedroom, remembering the single bed and the band posters and the stuffed toys in there.

Fuck it. I lead him instead to Phil and Renee's room, ignoring the little voice telling me that screwing some guy in my mother's bed was beyond the fucking pale. And anyway, he wasn't just some guy. I really did love him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, stopping me before I could kiss him again, "we don't have to sweetheart."

I looked up at him, a small and, I hoped, seductive smile on my face, "I want to."

"Oh god," Henry ran his palm over the scruff on his chin nervously and gulped.

"What's wrong?" I asked, stepping forward and tracing one finger along his chest, down his stomach and hooking it in to the front of his pants.

"Nothing," he growled, "nothing at all."

We fell in to bed, tearing at each other's clothes. The build up to this moment had been intense. We'd made out in store cupboards and cars, and although things had gotten pretty fucking steamy we'd never been in a position – as it were - to go all the way. Until now.

He reached down to retrieve the obligatory little foil package from his jeans, ripping it open and rolling it on expertly before pressing down and in to me.

That moment was the closest I had come to anything like I imagined sex should be. Everything else, compared to those moments with Henry were insignificant.

He watched me intently as he moved inside me, telling me how good I felt, how much he had wanted to do this since we first met. I just smiled up at him serenely, letting myself bask in his words and his touch.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, he froze.

"What's wrong?" I wondered if I'd done something, if there was something wrong with me. Fuck, what if that was why Felix hadn't wanted to keep me?

"I heard something," he whispered, alert.

"It's nothing," I reached up to pull his lips to mine, "mom and Phil are away, it's just us."

No sooner had the words left my lips than I heard a thump and what sounded like keys dropping on to something hard.

"Bella?"

"Shit!" I whispered, as frozen in terror as Henry was, neither of us so much as taking a breath, "my mom."

"Fuck," Henry tried to roll off of me, but before he could do so Renee shouted out my name again.

We both heard her footsteps getting closer and knew there was no time to do anything but pull the blankets up over us.

"Bella baby, what are you doing in there?" the door swung back on its hinges and, as if in perfect fucking slow-mo I watched as the smile dropped from my mother's face, replaced by apoplectic fury.

_She turned away from us, "Isabella please get dressed and meet me downstairs. Let your _friend _out on the way."_

__

As Renee disappeared, Henry scrambled out of the bed and started throwing his clothes on.

_"Shit Isabella," he hissed, "you told me…you said…fucking hell. Do you realise what this could mean? I could lose everything Bella, _everything_."_

__

"I'm sorry Henry, their flight must have been cancelled or something. I swear to god I didn't know…"

I was interrupted by Renee screeching, "ISABELLA MARIE SWAN GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!"

"I'm so sorry," I cried, leading the way to the front door where I watched as Henry walked away from me as fast as he could.

I turned to find my mother sitting on the sofa, her head in her hands. Phil stroked up and down her back, murmuring soothingly.

"Jeez Bella," he shook his head, "could you be any more stupid?"

"Let me explain…" I started, but Renee stopped me.

"Please tell me that that wasn't who I think it was Bella."

"I love him mom."

"Love?" she screamed, rising out of her seat, literally foaming at the mouth, "no you don't. And I'll tell you something for nothing madam, he doesn't damn well love you either."

"Calm down sugar," Phil grabbed her round the waist, trying to calm her.

"Calm down? Calm down Phil? Are you kidding me? Why don't you make yourself useful for once and call the fucking cops?"

Edward just stares at me unblinkingly. It's like he had suddenly developed fucking x-ray vision or some shit and could see right the way through me.

"He was your teacher wasn't he?" he whispers.

"Strictly speaking he wasn't. But he did teach at my school."

"Bella, this is…I don't know what to say. How old was he? How much older than you?"

"Does it matter?"

"I guess not. But I'd like to know all the same. Was he married? Did he have kids?"

I suddenly notice that we're whispering but for some reason I really don't want to talk any fucking louder. None of this was anything I wanted to shout about, that was for motherfucking sure.

"He was 28, twelve years older than me. And yes, he was fucking married."

He moves away from me, running his fingers through his wild copper hair repeatedly.

"Were you in love with him?"

"I thought so, but no. It was just the…the thrill I guess? I cared for him a lot and I still don't believe he took advantage of me, but no, I didn't love him."

Edward stands still in front of a window, pressing his forehead against the cold glass, his breath visible on the pane.

"It's all in the past, all that shit," I tell him, standing up and positioning myself behind him, "I can't apologise for who I am but believe it or not I _have _changed since I've been here. And I do want things to be different for us.

"All this...shit…that happened to me, that I made happen, it's in my past. And you can look shocked and you can read in to it what you will but, truly Edward, it was nothing but the stupid games of a bored teenage girl with nothing better to do."

"And now you're here, in Forks. You needed excitement in Phoenix, but you don't need it here Bella? Here in this small town out in the country where nothing much happens and it rains every damn day?"

He still has his back to me.

"I like excitement, hell I like sex too. But you can't assume from what's happened past that I'm the same person. I'm not. I want more for myself now. And if there's any way, _any fucking way_, you still like me after hearing the sordid truth about Isabella Swan, Arizona's favourite fucking wild child, I want you to be my 'more'."

"I don't know Bella," he sighs, turning to look at me, "I want something special, something that really means something to us both. I want to be with you but I don't just want to be another one in your long line of boy toys."

"What?" I peer up at him, slack jawed, watching his eyes burn in to mine.

"You blow in to town Bella, with your big city attitude, you unload all your history on me, all your experience, all your dysfunction and then you expect me to just say it's ok? Well it isn't Bella, I might be naïve and I might be old fashioned but that doesn't mean I'm some sort of sexual experiment for you, just letting you use me until you go off in search of your next big adventure."

"So that's what you got from the last hour?" I study my sneakers intently for a moment, thinking about Edward's impassioned soliloquy. I try to understand his position, to see what he's saying but all I can hear is accusations and fucking judgment. The fury bubbles up and over until my hands are shaking like I've got some sort of fucking Parkinsons.

"I need to think," he murmurs.

"Don't bother," I spit, "you've obviously made up your mind about me already. But you listen to me Edward Cullen, at least I'm living my life – alright I've made mistakes, a lot of fucking mistakes – but I don't live in some sort of dream world with a fucking Cosby Show family. One day you're going to realise that the world is a cruel, hard, dirty fucking place, you're going to realise that all you can do is find that little bit of fun, that little bit of pleasure in it. You'll have spent too damn long sitting on your porch waiting for passion and excitement to find you and when it comes, _if it comes_, you'll wish you'd put yourself out there instead of living in your fucking movie script bubble."

Before he can say another insulting fucking word I get out of there, as fast as I can on my stupid fucking foot, and start the long walk back to Charlie's place.

I really need a fucking drink.

**A/N: So now you know Bella's past what do you think of her? There are tons of you following this story but not many comments so I'd love to hear what your thoughts are on it. Too much swearing? Is Edward a bit too soft? Is Feisty-ella as much of a bitch as she thinks she is? EQ x**


	9. Chapter 9

"Hey girlie!"

I lift a rather eloquent middle finger, displaying it to the occupants of the car currently idling behind me without turning to look at their sorry fucking faces.

There's a booming laugh and the sound of a car door opening.

"Fucks sake," I curse under my breath, wishing I had some of Charlie's pepper spray to hand. He gives that stuff out to me like its candy but it never makes it in to any of my bags or pockets.

I hesitate for a moment, wondering whether it's even worth me ignoring these dudes and weighing up the relative dangers of asking them for a lift. I mean, this is Forks right? No bloodthirsty murderers in Forks. At worst we're probably talking horny teenage boys.

I turn carefully, crossing arms over my chest and getting a witty put down at the ready.

"Bells!" Jake grins, his hundred watt smile lighting up the street, "what, you thought I was just some…"

"Horny teenage boy? Yeah kinda," I smile back.

"What the hell are you doing walking around out here?" he glances down, "and on that foot?"

"Long story," I sigh, "can you give me a ride back to Charlie's dude?" I ask, hopefully.

"Sure, you ok to squeeze in between these douchebags?" he pulls open the door to the Rabbit I know he's been restoring for years to reveal a whole pack of oversized kids from the Reservation down at La Push.

"Oh man," I shrug, "you're going somewhere aren't you? Look, no worries Jake, I don't want you to go out of your way."

"Bella?" one of the kids shouts, "Ooooh Bella Swan isn't it?" he's all but leaning out of Jake's car, his dark brown eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Shit! Is it?"

"Guys," Jake moans, his whine belying his increasingly hulking form, "we're heading down to this bar in Port Angeles, just getting outta town you know? But we'll go past Charlie's place for you Bells, no problem."

"Bar?" I ask, fucking bingo! "er, you guys wouldn't mind me tagging along with you?"

Before I know it I'm crammed in to a postage stamp sized space between two oversized rez kids who Jake introduces as Quil and Embry, concerned that the Rabbit's chassis'll start dragging on the floor.

"So YOU'RE Bella Swan," Embry nods, looking me up and down appraisingly. Or as much as he can in the restricted space.

"Er, yeah."

I don't know where the hell this conversation is going and whether I'm going to like it.

"So, you like Jake or what?" Quil nudges me in the side with a sharp elbow.

"What the fuck?" I ask, suddenly acutely aware that I'm the only set of tits in the car.

"Shit Quil, will you leave the poor girl alone?"

It's the first time the older guy in the front seat has spoken and Jake gives him a grateful nod. I sense that this one, Sam Uley his name is, is somehow the leader of this little group. Not only does he appear to be twice the size even of Jake but he seems older, his quiet, serious demeanour already obvious from the few moments I've known him.

For the rest of the journey Jake and his buddies compete over bench pressing and chin ups. I stay the fuck out of it, letting them enjoy their little testosterone fest while I'm fucking stewing on Edward and his narrow minded reaction to my past.

I knew when I started telling him that it wasn't all gonna end in fucking hearts and roses. I mean, if I thought that for a second I would've spilled ages ago, got all that shit out there and moved on.

But the fact that the bastard accused me of using him. That he's moved so fucking quickly on to using my past against me, judging me by my actions. Well, that smarts a tad.

It's the first time I've ever sat down and thought about my past, about everything that brought me from Phoenix to where I am now, and I can't deny it sounds pretty bad. I get that, I really do. Hell, I've squeezed more fucking rebellion in to the last couple of years than most people manage in a lifetime.

Even so, was it really that bad? Ok, I lied, I drank, I took drugs and I had sex. But I never hurt anybody, not really. Nobody aside from my fucking self. And it looks like I'm still doing it, opening myself up to some idiot so he can rip out my heart and use it as a damn hacky sack. Edward's just the latest in a long line of champion fucking hacky sack players.

Jake pulls the old Rabbit in to a parking lot and we pile out on to the pavement. I look around at my companions and wonder what the fuck they put in the drinking water down at La Push. Even in my jeans and parka I'm shivering but the four russet skinned six footers around me are wearing shirt sleeves, rolled up to display the kind of carved muscles that just shouldn't fucking be seen on teenagers.

"You ok Bella?" Jake asks, bending his knees slightly to look at me.

"Sure, just freezing my balls off here, can we get to the damn bar?"

Embry claps me on the back, "let's go!" he chuckles, moving forward as Jake snakes an arm around my back, pulling me under his armpit and sharing his surprising body warmth which makes its way quickly through my coat and to my chilled skin.

"Better?" he asks. I nod and move in a bit closer.

In the bar we order beers. The young woman behind the bar is either fooled by the size of Jake and his friends or distracted by their physiques. Whatever, I'm just pretty damn glad to have a cold one in front of me.

We shoot the shit for a while, taking it in turns to buy drinks and tell stories like something out of Jaws. Before long I feel the tension leave my body and my mind manages to shift its focus from my earlier conversation with Edward, at least for a short while.

Each time there's a lull in the conversation I drift back, wondering whether I could have explained things better. Could I have been wrong to tell him? Was he right to react the way he did?

It's not as if I can call anybody to talk it through. The only person I'd even countenance talking to is Alice and, well, he's her brother. I just can't go there.

Another beer is slammed down in front of me.

"Hanging around with us that bad Bells?" Quil asks, taking in my sour expression.

"Nah, I've just had a really shitty day Quil. Sorry." I plaster an unconvincing smile on my face and he seems satisfied, shuffling off to the bathroom after squeezing my shoulder reassuringly.

Jake slings an arm over the back of the seat we're sharing, letting his hand rest on me and I let him, even though I totally know it's a reaction to Quil touching me. His friends have made it pretty clear that Jake likes me. In _that _way I mean.

"Remember when we used to make mud pies?" he says just loudly enough to be heard over the drinking game Sam and Embry have just started.

"We never made fucking mud pies Jake," I shake my head, "that's just one of those things Charlie and Billy say to indicate how long we've known each other. I mean, who makes mud pies really?"

He furrows his brow, "really? Wow, I swear I remember…"

"Uh-uh. We did used to take baths together though."

I laugh when Jacob's face turns a deep red, "naked?"

Resting my head on his hard chest and looking up at him through my eyelashes I reply, "stark bollock Jake."

I realise I shouldn't be doing this. I know that Jake is clearly attracted to me and I know I don't want anything to happen. I also know that I'm only making myself feel better after Edward fucked me over.

And yeah, I know it's not exactly moving on from my old ways. Fuck it.

He's stroking my hair and I'm nuzzling in to him when I hear it. An unmistakable boom from the general direction of the bar.

"Ding dong Bell! What the hell?"

"Fuck," I mutter, raising my gaze to find the huge form of Emmett leaning against the bar, a bottle of Bud dwarfed by his ham-like hand and flanked by a predictably sullen looking Rose, perfectly plucked eyebrows reaching for the ceiling.

"You know that bastard?" Jake asks.

"Sure…kind of."

He's loping over to us, his arms spread away from his body, his chest puffed out. I think of those fucking birds that fluff up their feathers to look bigger when they're under threat.

"So, you're hanging with the La Push losers now are you?" Emmett straddles a chair backwards.

"You've met I take it?"

Jake sneers, pulling me impossibly closer to his chest. I fight with the desire to curl in to him for some sort of protection from the damn pain in my chest inexplicably brought on by this sudden giant sized reminder of Edward and the need to pull away because I fucking _know _that this looks bad and that I don't want Edward, no matter what's happened, to hear that I've been straight on to somebody else. Even though, strictly speaking I haven't and I shouldn't give a shit anyway. So screw him.

"Course we've met," Emmett laughs, "we pound these dudes on the football field every year man."

"Only because you cheat," Quil interrupts, pulling himself to his full height, "how _is _your nose by the way Cullen?"

Emmett shrugs, "gotta play the game dude. Just accept that you guys are mad sucky on the field. What was the score last time? Seventy three to what?"

The La Push boys ignore him and he pulls out this totally triumphant grin.

"So what have you done with my brother Bellow? You sexed him to death and buried him in the forest?"

"Huh," I snort, "not exactly."

Rose is just in time to hear Emmett ask for an explanation. Fucking typical.

"Don't tell me lover boy messed up?" she snorts, "you'd think he'd be watching his step now he's finally in line to lose it."

Jake bristles, "is this really any of your business?"

"It's cool Jake," I murmur at the same time that Rose snarls, "is it any of yours beach bum?"

"Jesus," I'm already fed up to the fucking back teeth of listening to them talk as if I'm not even in the damn room, "if you must know Edward thinks I'm a whore and pretty much told me so. I'm fairly fucking sure that our relationship, such as it was, isn't going anywhere. Ok?"

Jake rubs my back but I scooch away from him, wanting nothing less than to be touched or pitied.

"What a prick," Emmett mutters, "want me to take him down old school Bella?"

"No, I just want to be fucking left alone to go have a smoke in peace."

I stalk out of the bar, reaching in to my bra strap to retrieve the pack of cigarettes I've just bought at the bar and stashed there.

Just before I let the door slam behind me I hear Emmett growl, "you don't waste your time do you Black?"

I'm patting my pockets cursing myself for forgetting to pick up a light when I hear the snap and click of a Zippo next to me followed by the welcome sight of a flame being held to the smoke hanging from my mouth.

I inhale deeply and look up.

"Thanks."

"He acts like a dick but it's only because he's immature you know?" Rose shrugs, plucking a Marlboro from her own pack and resting it between her red painted lips.

"What the fuck do you care?" I turn away from her and kick the pavement with the toe of my Chuck.

"I love Em. And I don't know if you've noticed but his brother is a nightmare. When Edward's pissed we all know about it and Em, for some reason, gets the brunt of it all. You made him happy, ergo I give a shit."

"Sure."

"I'm sure the pixie told you how Edward is? He's straight outta 1910 Bella, he thinks he'll find his one true love and that'll be it. It doesn't help that he's surrounded by couples. He's the only one alone, you know? And Carlisle and Esme are a lot to live up to."

"Yeah, well I don't think I'm his happily ever after Rose, but thanks for the pep talk."

"Look, I don't know you any better than I know the guy who just served me the worst glass of white wine this side of Washington but I know that I've never seen Edward that chilled in the time I've known him."

"How long?"

"A year give or take. It doesn't sound that much but it's a damn long time when you're looking at that miserable face."

I restrain myself from telling her to take a look in the fucking mirror.

"You don't have to tell me what happened, but I guarantee Edward doesn't think you're a whore," she says, attempting a smile like she's never pulled the corners of her mouth upwards before.

I snort, "sorry Rose but I'm pretty fucking positive he all but slapped me with the Scarlet Letter."

"I love that book," she nods thoughtfully and I have to admit I didn't have Rose down as a fan of the classics.

We don't say anything for a while, just puff on our cigarettes until they're finished, grinding them in to the floor with our shoes. I light up another straight away, not wanting to go back and deal with any more of Emmett and Jake's pissing contest.

I wait for Rose to leave me alone but she doesn't, she just stands there, staring at me in this weird way.

"Did Alice tell you how I ended up here?" she suddenly asks, her gaze holding mine as I shake my head.

"Can I tell you about it?"

I shrug, "I have this weird feeling you're going to either way."

She sighs and pulls herself up on to a low wall, crossing her long legs at the ankles and letting her heels rest on the sidewalk. She clicks her lighter open and closed on her thigh and I guess she's thinking about where to start or some shit. The stirrer in me imagines that it must be a juicy old tale.

"I don't know if you know this, but Esme is my Godmother," she begins, still not looking at me, "she and my Mom go way back, they were at High School together, they were Maid of Honour at each other's weddings, all that crap.

"My Dad's a pastor close to Chicago, where we all grew up. I sort of knew the Cullens but they moved over here before I was old enough to really get in with their kids."

"So how'd you end up living with them? Did something happen to your parents?" I recall Alice saying something about Rose being kicked out but I figure she might have had it wrong. It wouldn't be the first time Alice exaggerated the fuck out of something.

"No, my parents are fine. They still live in this little place outside Chicago, my Dad's a pillar of the community, my Mom wafts around with her nose in the air being holier than thou and pretending not to judge people when she's really sneering at them behind their backs."

I'm aware that I'm staring at her, transfixed by her puffy fucking mouth forming words. I hope she doesn't think I'm lezzing on her.

"I suppose I was like that too. I know how I look Bella, I know that I'm beautiful. It sounds arrogant but I'm just being honest. Of course when you look like this you can pretty much get what you want. I was one of the most popular girls in school and I could date whoever I wanted, even though they had to pass the Daddy test," she breaths through her nose sharply, once, "but I had him wrapped around my finger too so he couldn't really deny me – I only dated the rich, respectable boys anyway, the jocks who were going to end up working in boring banks with boring wives and boring kids and all that crap.

"Even though I dated a few other guys I really had my eye on the captain of the football team – before you say anything, it must be ingrained in me to go for the alpha male or something, I know. His name was Royce King."

I can't help the huge laugh that bursts out of me, "Royce King? That's amazing."

"Yeah I know. Royce King _the second_," she chuckles.

"Rose and Royce," I muse, shuffling on the spot a little, "at the car wash, working at the car wash yeah…"

"Fuck off. Are you listening to me or not?"

I pretend to zip my mouth and throw away the key, the international sign for 'shutting up now'.

"So I've got my eye on _Royce_. It takes some flirting but eventually I pin him. We dated for, like a year maybe? I was in love with him Bella, totally in love. And he was with me too. At least I think he was. It wasn't the…the _connection _I have with Em but it was that heart pounding, butterflies in the stomach love."

I feel the crushing pain in my chest again. I know the feeling she's describing, I've felt that bastard feeling.

"When you feel like that you think that there's nobody else in the world for you. Royce and I were going to get married, we just knew that was where we were headed. We'd finish school, we'd go to college together, we'd get hitched in Daddy's chapel, then I'd start popping out the kids.

"It seemed pointless to wait. I'd been brought up by devout Christians with all their 'True Love Waits' slogans but for us…we were in love, we'd done everything but sleep together. God, I hate that expression," she snaps, "have sex. We'd done everything but have sex."

I have an idea what's coming but I keep my mouth shut, just watching her talk, letting her tell the story herself.

"It was the first fucking time. We did it once, Bella, _once_," Rose emphasises the point by shaking her index finger in the air angrily.

"It wasn't like we weren't careful, we used a condom for Christ's sake. But we were in that two percent."

"When I told him I was pregnant he freaked out, he said he was too young to be a father, that he couldn't be involved. He wouldn't take my calls, he avoided me at school."

"Bastard," I hiss.

"Yep, I thought he'd marry me, make it all right but I was an idiot. Mom worked it out, I was throwing up constantly, crying my eyes out in my room. I was so fucking scared. She confronted me but instead of being supportive and telling me it would all be ok, like a mom should, she went off, she was screaming at me, telling me that I was a slut, that I was dumb and an embarrassment, she was shaking me and asking me what people were going to think, over and over again. That was all she cared about, what the neighbours would say about us.

"She didn't talk to me for three days. She wouldn't even look at me. I knew she'd told Daddy but he pretended nothing was happening. Eventually they cornered me and demanded that we talk. Well, it wasn't really a conversation, it was them telling me what I was going to do.

"They'd booked an appointment with an abortion doctor – out of town of course," she smiles ruefully, "wouldn't want anybody finding out."

"So you…?"

Rose shakes her head, "no. I couldn't believe what they were suggesting. They were pro-lifers right up until it was their reputation at stake. But it wasn't that, it wasn't that I was anti…that, I just couldn't do it. It seemed like a wasted opportunity, not for me, but for somebody. I wanted to have the baby, to put it up for adoption but all my mom and dad cared about was what people would say when their daughter was walking 'round, knocked up before she's even graduated.

"They gave me a choice – it was the only choice I had in the whole thing – I could have the termination they wanted me to have or I could leave town and come back after the baby was adopted."

"And you came to live with Esme and Carlisle?"

She smiles and for the first time it reaches her eyes, "they were great. Carlisle arranged everything, he lined up this couple from Seattle who wanted to adopt my baby, organised all my medical care. My mom and dad didn't speak to me for the whole time I was pregnant, they never even called to find out how I was doing. The first I heard from them was after the birth. They wanted to know if it was all over and whether I could keep up the story they'd told their friends. They'd said that I was in Europe studying."

"Why didn't you go home?"

"Would you?" she asks but it isn't really a question.

"I felt like the Cullens were my real family by then. Esme held my hand when I gave birth – all I knew was that the baby was healthy, they took her away before I even saw her. Apparently that's the best way. I couldn't go back to Chicago and lie to everybody, pretend that what my parents did was alright. So when Carlisle and Esme said I could stay I did. My folks didn't exactly fight to have me home."

"Shit," I breathe, pulling out yet another cigarette and offering her one which she takes and gratefully pulls on, "I'm sorry Rose."

"Don't pity me," she scowls, "I did things my way, I got a great family. And I met Em. I wouldn't have otherwise."

"I guess," I struggle to understand how she can be so ok with all the shit that went down.

"I know that Edward doesn't think you're a whore, whatever the fuck happened with you, because he's always accepted me. When the others kept their distance Edward was the first one to approach me, to treat me like a sister. Even before Emmett, Edward took care of me.

"It was just stupid things like fetching me glasses of water when I couldn't move and helping me take my damn shoes off when I couldn't even see my feet. He did all of that without judging me.

"He was the only one there when my labour started you know," she shakes her head and lets out a little laugh, "Jesus Christ, he was such a mess. He was running around grabbing wet towels and asking if he needed to do anything. I had to calm him down and explain that all I needed was my bag and a ride to the hospital. He was ridiculous but I think all that kind of calmed me down, looking after him, you know?

"He might be miserable and he might be inexperienced but one thing Edward is not is judgmental. I promise."

I consider for a moment. I don't know what to say and I feel like such a fucking child right now, in front of this brave woman who's gone through so much. Even if she can be a moody bitch.

"There you are!" the door swings back with a crash and Emmett almost tumbles out of the bar, a mass of tight white t-shirt clad sinew.

"Girl talk," Rose explains, moving to touch his bicep.

"Want a ride Belly?" Emmett asks.

I tell him yes and duck inside to say goodbye to Jake and his friends. Jake's bottom lip pouts out when I tell him I'm leaving with Emmett but he doesn't say anything, just pulls me in to a bear hug, saying "take care Bella, call me ok?"

I'm not sure what's fucking going on between us but I hope he wants to be friends. I could use one of those more than anything and Jake seems like a damn good bet.

Rose and I are pretty silent on the way home, she's back to ignoring me, staring out of the window with an unfathomable face on her. Emmett blasts on about something like he's on loudspeaker until he realises we're not really listening and turns the stereo up to fucking eleven, singing along to AC/DC badly.

Emmett pulls his obnoxious car up outside Charlie's house.

"Thanks Em," I say, clambering down from the dizzying heights of the jeep, "see ya Rose."

"Bella," she stops me just before I close the door, her voice is nearly drowned out by the loud music, "I get you know? The Scarlet Letter?"

I just smile sadly and turn to let myself in to the house.

****

A/N: Thank you for reading and adding. I really enjoyed writing Rose's story in this chapter but am slightly nervous about it so I'd love to hear your thoughts, good or bad. Let me know how you feel about the wolf pack turning up here too... EQx


	10. Chapter 10

"What do you mean you'd forgotten?" Alice squeals.

"I mean I'd forgotten Alice. As in it slipped my mind. As in it didn't occur to me. As in I've had more fucking pressing things to think about."

It's been a week since Edward and I had our little chat. Rose and Emmett aren't talking to him. I've run away and hidden, coward that I am every time I've seen him – literally, like hiding in the bathroom or ducking behind the truck – and Alice has started spending a good seventy five percent of her time trying to convince me that I should have a heart to heart with her cousin. Project Chatette isn't working.

Now she's going on about some sort of auction. It seems to involve auctioning off the cheerleading team, like they're cattle, to the highest bidder. But it's for some fucking children's charity so it's not like I can even veto it even in my lofty position as Chief Pom Pom Waver.

Give us an L, give us an A, give us an M, give us an E, what have you got?

I raise my hands in surrender, "if all I have to do is show Al, fine."

"If you help paint the signage you get the afternoon off classes."

I consider, biology followed by gym…

"Ok, ok, I'll be there."

"Yay!" she squeals, "see you then."

Biology classes have been the only place I've been unable to avoid Edward. But after skipping a couple I've only had to endure him twice and both times Mr Banner has totally slacked off and shown us Lorenzo's Oil instead of making us work.

It wouldn't have been so bad, I'd scooted my chair as far away as possible from Edward's and avoided his gaze - the room was so quiet he wouldn't have been able to talk to me, even if he'd wanted to – but it was almost worse than having to deal with him face to face.

It took all my fucking energy to keep my eyes trained on the screen in front of me. It was almost as if some supernatural magnetic force was pulling at my head I wanted to look at him so badly. I was aware of his every movement, every shuffle in his seat, every tap of his foot or re-crossing of his arms. The sound of his breathing seemed to reverberate through my head and every sigh, and there were a lot of fucking sighs, sent a jolt through me.

Strangest though was the feeling that every hair on my body was standing on end, like electrical energy was running through my veins instead of blood. And I could only pinpoint Edward as the source of that energy. It only served to make me more fucking furious at him and when Banner dismissed us I shot out of my chair and dashed for the door like my ass was on fire.

After morning classes I eat my lunch with Jessica, who rabbits on about Mike as if I fucking care that he's got a new hair cut or whatever before making my excuses and making for the library. Sitting at one of the computers, I log in to my email account.

In between the offers of penis enlargement, invitations to play online poker and the usual drivel from Renee I spot a name that makes my heart race. I don't want to be a fucking pushover but my finger can't click that mouse quickly enough.

_From: Edward A. Cullen  
Subject: Hello  
To: Isabella Swan_

__

Bella, since you're not returning my calls and won't talk to me at school I'm trying this.

We should talk. Please. You have my number.

Edward x

It's the 'x' that makes me fume. Like he cares, like the 'x' is going to make me talk to him. For that matter, what does he even want to talk about? He's made his feelings clear. I hit delete, muttering "fuck off Cullen," under my breath.

"I'm not a Cullen actually," Jasper replies, sliding in to the seat next to me, "I'm adopted. Kept my birth parents' name, Whitlock."

He doesn't offer any more information and I don't ask, though I'd like to. Call me nosey, I don't care.

"Thinking of moving on to the hard stuff eh Bella?" he queries and I give him the brow.

Jasper nods at the screen in front of me. It's open now to the next email, offering me Viagra without a prescription.

I hurry to hit delete and the next delivery pops up. A busty slut in a tiny gold bikini who apparently wants to be friends fills the screen.

"Fucks sake," I snarl, logging out angrily, "it's just junk mail."

"I assumed so. Look Bella, I've been trying to keep out of all this, I figure whatever's going on between you and Edward is your business. But Alice keeps pestering me."

"Yeah, she's a persistent little shit," I say with an eye roll, "so go on, give me it."

"I'm not going to tell you what to do Bella, you need to make your own decisions and if you don't want anything to do with him that's his loss – all I know is what Alice has told me and, honestly, it sounds like this is all his own work."

I watch as Jasper twists a piece of paper in his long hands, remaining silent for a moment. It's his way, his odd little way, like the slow delivery and annoying waits for him to spit his shit out give his words more gravity, like he's the Dalai Lama. And it totally works.

"All I'm going to tell you is that he's been absolutely miserable this week."

Although I'm considering telling Jasper that I don't give a fuck I appreciate his restraint, knowing only too well the pressure he'll have been put under by Herr Brandon to talk to me. So I just nod instead and say 'ok.'

He unfolds his lanky frame and stands as I go back to the PC, staring at the screen and waiting for him to leave.

"You are too, aren't you?" he asks.

"What? Miserable?" I don't turn to answer him, knowing my face will give me away, "nah, I'm good. Your powers must be failing you dude."

I watch his reflection in the monitor shrug and then retreat before I allow my shoulders to fall and bring my hand up to rub at the stupid traitor tears that have taken residence in my eyes.

After I spend the afternoon painting cheerful signs and hanging decorations in the gym with Alice and all the other happy-go-lucky bitches I drive home to change in to my uniform for the auction.

Alice has drilled us on the evening and I'm prepared to have to kiss some loser. Assuming some loser wants to bid money to kiss me. Which I doubt. And if they do they're getting a knee right in the scrotum if they try any of that funny shit.

In my bedroom I pull on the dreaded uniform, pulling a face at the reflection that looks back at me in the mirror. I hate the tiny skirt and too tight sweater, not to mention the box fresh fucking sneakers that finish the outfit off so wonder-fucking-fully.

I wistfully glance at my battered Chuck Taylors, the red faded perfectly and the edges frayed. As God intended.

Slipping off the white sneakers I consider whether Alice actually has the strength to do me any real damage. I figure even if she does I can probably avoid her for the rest of my natural life.

So I pull on the Chucks.

An hour later I arrive back at school – the car park's already filling up and the kids locking their cars and walking to the gymnasium stare and whisper, although none of them have the balls to say anything to me so I strut on, allowing a triumphant little grin spread across my face.

Alice shits.

"What the hell?" she screams as soon as I walk in, her already huge eyes even wider with shock, making her look like a Manga character.

"What? I reworked the outfit, you taught me so much Al," I say, forcing an innocent expression out.

"But…but LOOK…" she, I'm not joking, actually stamps her little foot, "you look like Buffy after a vampire battle!"

See, I haven't left it at the sneaker swap. I've pulled holes in a pair of fishnet tights, I've backcombed my hair in to a good approximation of a birds nest and I've 'accentuated my natural looks' with half a ton of black eyeliner and a good smear of 'Red Revival #645'.

She's chanting "oh god, oh god," and rifling through her fucking huge bag, I guess to deal with my apparently horrific improvements. But before she can do a thing the Principal is on stage, introducing us.

"Come along Alice," I trill cheerfully, "lets go raise money for the sick kiddies."

"I hate you," she mutters, following me out on to the stage.

There's an audible gasp from our assembled classmates as I take to the podium to do my Head Cheerleader bit, but I plaster on my serene fucking smile and clear my throat, hearing Eye of the Tiger on my internal jukebox and inwardly fist bumping myself for winding Alice up so perfectly. Maybe she'll leave me alone about her dick of a cousin now.

"Good evening," I begin, dead panning all the way, reading off the notes I've been given as I'm leaning in to the mic, "thank you all so much for coming. As I expect you know this evening is all in aid of Wishes for Kids, so please be generous when bidding on the lips of my beautiful squad. I'm not a great orator so instead I'm gonna hand the podium to someone who could blow the wig off of Trump with her hot air. My second in command, Ms Alice Brandon," alright, so I went off piste with that last bit.

She gives me the evil eye as we swap places before breaking out the famous Brandon beam and thanking the crowd for their applause.

"Now, as official auctioneer I'll start off the bidding and ask those of you who'd like to bid on a kiss to raise their hand, " Alice is in her element, "when the bidding concludes the lucky winner may come up to the stage to pay their fee and receive their prize. Kisses are to last thirty seconds. No tongues and keep your hands decent boys."

She auctions the girls off one by one to hormonal high bidders, Eric Yorkie pipped to the post every time. I begin dreading my turn – Alice has saved me for last of fucking course – even more so when Tyler Crowley starts waving at me and grinning like a Cheshire fucking Cat from his front row seat.

Alice auctions herself off, raising the highest amount so far thanks to a battle between Jasper and an enthusiastic Junior. Of course Jasper wins and collects his chaste kiss before Alice promises him 'a bonus' later on.

At least I think she says bonus.

"Last of all for your lips only is our very own Head Cheerleader, Bella Swan," Alice frantically waves me up for my seat and I give a half hearted, limp wristed wave to the crowd. I can see Lauren Mallory and her bitch face crew smirking at each other behind perfectly manicured hands.

"So I'll start the bidding at ten dollars, ten dollars anybody?" Alice searches the crowd theatrically. She needn't have done so, seeing as Tyler's arm is about to dislocate from his shoulder.

I rest my elbow on my knee, my chin in my palm and watch as Tyler and Eric battle it out over me, feeling like a piece of meat.

"Fifty dollars?" Alice asks, looking to Eric who shakes his head and shrugs, I can't help but feel pretty fucking grateful that his folks aren't splashing the cash on his allowance.

A new hand raises, half way in to the crowd and Alice cranes her neck to see who it is. Suddenly a frown passes over her face and she covers the microphone with her hand, whipping round to eyeball me.

"_What's he doing here?_" she hisses.

"Who?" I have no clue what she's talking about.

"_That's got to be against the rules_," but she turns back as if nothing has happened.

"Well, seems we're opening the auction to students from other schools," she simpers, "we have fifty dollars from Jacob Black. Tyler?"

I swear to god I have no idea why Jacob's here and what the hell he's playing at. Aside from anything else I know the guy's totally tapped out after fixing up his car. And Billy ain't exactly a high baller.

But somehow the bidding's up to a hundred damn dollars.

Alice is about to call it, Tyler's mouthing 'sorry' at me like I'm gonna be disappointed that I don't get to experience him slavering on me and I'm getting used to the fact that at least the dude I'm about to make out with for money is smoking hot and a friend too.

"A hundred and fifty."

My fucking mini-pimp grins so hard she looks like her face is about to break in two while the hall erupts in chatter, people turning to see who's just upped the stakes quite so dramatically.

I don't need to look because my panties would know that smooth voice anywhere. Not to mention that I can_ see_ Edward leaning against the back wall, smiling this sexy damn smile that makes me unsure whether to stand up and walk out or file it for bedtime.

"Two hundred," Jacob counters loudly, silencing the crowd.

"Two fifty," Edward shrugs from his spot, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Three hundred?" Alice asks and all eyes are on Jake.

I can hear him curse before he nods.

The whole gymnasium has turned to stare at Edward, who visibly takes a deep breath, still staring me out. I notice that my back has straightened and my fists are clenching and unclenching on my thighs.

"A thousand dollars," he announces without so much as a flinch.

"Fucking hell," one of the girls sitting behind me gasps and her sentiments are echoed over and again.

"Jacob?" Alice's face is triumphant, she knows as well as I do that there's no way Jake can beat that. I don't know what to think but I'm swerving between pissed and turned on.

"No? Any advances on a thousand dollars?" she pauses for effect before clapping her fucking hands together, "sold! To Edward Cullen for one thousand dollars."

"Oh my god!" she squawks at me, hopping off of her podium, "_a thousand dollars_! See, I _told _you."

I'm not sure what she's supposed to have told me but I don't really get a minute to think about it because Cullen is striding along the side of the gym towards the stage, his long legs carrying him towards me too fucking fast.

I'm half out of my seat, fucking fight or flight, when he climbs the steps and my supposed friend pulls me upright, practically flinging me at him. I bounce off his chest, just keeping myself from falling in an inelegant heap on the floor and taking him with me in to the bargain.

"I like this new uniform," he whispers, "much more you."

"Let's just get this over with Cullen," I snarl.

"I'd much rather savour the moment."

I curl my hands in to fists at my sides, ready to punch his fucking lights out. I don't know what the hell he's playing at. Is this some sort of pay back for making him like me when I was such a whore? Or a way to humiliate me in public? Maybe he's just really charity minded. I doubt it. He's definitely looking to exact some sort of punishment on me.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" I chew out, my face burning with anger, "I don't know what the hell you're playing at but it's not fucking funny."

"I'm not _playing_ at anything Bella."

He's so fucking calm I could scream and to add insult to injury the whole damn place is filling with the sound of stamping feet, clapping hands and chants of 'kiss, kiss, kiss'.

"Fine," I shout over the noise and fling my arms up around his neck, pulling his face down to me.

I only intend to provide him with one hard, perhaps slightly uncomfortable, touch of my lips, though I do consider biting him, but as soon as our skin meets it sets off that fucking electricity again. Before I know it I'm twisting my fingers in to his hair and his fingers are digging in to my waist.

Our tongues meet and it's as if the whistles and woops of the audience around us fade away and the only sound is dead air as we continue kissing, rough and bruising, our mouths making these wet smacking sounds and someone – I'm pretty sure it's me – is groaning and hmming.

Eventually, just when I think I'm about to die from lack of oxygen, which would be really embarrassing because I don't fancy the funeral director getting a look at my drenched underwear, one of us pulls away. I don't know which but I kind of hope it's me, 'cause you know, I don't want to have done a kissy face to thin air in front of an audience. Amongst other reasons.

Alice – of course Alice – leads everybody in a round of applause and declares the auction over, totting up the total. I don't hear her announce the amount heading for charity, I'm too damn busy recovering from kiss-shock and still staring at Edward kind of gormlessly. A little voice in the deepest recesses of my head is telling me to slap him but I'm choosing to ignore that bitch even though I know she's totally right.

He leans towards me then and whispers, his breath hot on my ear and his voice rough and low, "I'm sorry Bella."

Before I can recover from my head turning three sixty on my neck in utter confusion, he's gone, my only glimpse his back as he disappears the way he came, out of the double doors and in to the night. Dramatic bastard may as well have flipped a cape around him and busted out with a Dracula laugh.

We're stacking chairs and pulling down signs later, everyone's gone home but the cheerleading squad and a seriously pissed off janitor.

I've been doing my best to tune Alice out. I mean, I love her, really I do, but fucking hell the girl can talk and this evening's topic appears to be the kiss I've just shared with her cousin, on stage in front of the whole fucking student body.

"So, are you?" she's standing in front of me, legs apart and hands on her hips, like she's about to wrestle me to the ground. And I wouldn't put it past her either.

"Am I what Alice?" I sigh, assuming I've missed something of great fucking importance.

"Going to talk to him?"

"Talk to who Alice?"

"Ugh!" she's getting frustrated, "Edward of course. You remember, the guy you just pretty much dry humped before? The one you had an argument with and refused to talk to even though you're clearly in love with one another?"

"We're hardly in love."

"Lust then. Are. You. Going. To. Talk to him?" she punctuates her words with prods to my arm. That cow has sharp little needle fingers.

"I guess…I don't know…argh, fucking hell Alice. Can you just let me think about this before you go all fucking Judge Judy on me?"

She pouts but leaves me alone, skipping off to get her things.

I grab my keys and leave with her but we don't really say anything other than goodbye as I clamber in to the cab of my truck and start the engine.

At home I peel off my adapted cheerleading uniform and scrub my face free of the thick layer of make up I'd smeared on earlier. Staring at my bare face in the mirror I notice my lips are swollen, redder than usual and I can't help but smile as I start to think about Edward kissing me. Oh, fuck it, who am I kidding? I haven't stopped thinking about Edward kissing me since it happened.

I recall his email and wonder whether he really has been calling me. Call me a coward if you like but as soon as he phoned first time I'd shoved my cell in a drawer and pretended it didn't exist.

Rifling through my bedside table I pull the thing out from under some books and turn it on. It immediately starts beeping. Seventeen voicemails all from Edward fucking Cullen. I slam the back of my head against the wall repeatedly.

So maybe he's wanted to apologise all this time? Does that mean I was wrong to ignore him? He was still a prize asshole after all. Should I let him make it up to me? Should I hear him out? Should I go round there and knock the fucker out? Should I even be assuming he wants to make out…I mean _up_?

My mind's buzzing.

Still sitting in my hand the cell beeps again. This time telling me I've gotten a text message.

Alice.

_Wanna come over 2moro? Alice xxx_

I stick my middle finger up at the screen with a wry smile.

_I know what ur doing Al. B over after breakfast. B x_

Sneaky fucking oompa loompa.

**A/N: Slightly shorter this time but it seemed a good place to stop. Your reviews are almost as delicious as a PDA from Edward! EQ x**


	11. Chapter 11

I'm picking at a brownie with one hand while the other is being smeared with some sort of flowery scented lotion.

"He's not here."

I will myself not to blush.

"What? Who? What are you talking about?"

Alice rolls her eyes.

On the other side of the counter Rose snorts in to her ginger beer but says nothing.

I couldn't sleep last night. I was all fucking abuzz after the auction, my body tense and shaky. Charlie's disgusting snores had seemed louder than ever to my ears and I'd repeatedly growled, rolled over and pulled the pillow on to my head. All to no avail.

The last time I'd looked at the glowing red lights of my alarm clock it'd read 3:43. That's in the AM folks. As in too fucking late. Or early. Or whatever.

Anyway, I'd decided that I'd just stay awake. You know how it gets to the point where the little amount of sleep you _will_ get'll be even worse than not sleeping at all? Yeah, so I made that decision then promptly fell asleep.

I woke up to find Charlie long gone, off on one of his fishing trips, no doubt totally fucking refreshed after his superb night of zed catching. It was after ten, the sheets were sticking to me, I could feel the slight sting of pillow creases across one cheek and my phone was blinking with a new text message from Alice who, I suspect, wakes at the ass crack of dawn, leaps out of bed and sings along with the fucking birds like that bitch Snow White.

Needless to say I'm in a shitty mood, not in the least helped by Alice insisting that I spend precious minutes of my life choosing between three extremely similar shades of pink nail varnish, the preferred of which she has painted on to my bitten fingernails.

This wouldn't be such a big deal only the painting was preceded by a good hour of buffing, filing and something called 'base coating'.

I'm at the end of my tether and starting to realise exactly why Rose always looks like someone just stuck a hot poker in her right eye.

"Done," Alice announces, in such a way that suggests she's expecting thanks.

"Great, thanks."

There's a silence punctuated only by Alice opening the fridge and moving plates and cans about, her tiny body almost disappearing inside as she searches for something.

"You can ask us Bella," she shouts from what I'm starting to suspect may be a contemporary gateway to Narnia.

I sigh loudly but continue ignoring her. I don't know why, it's not like I don't want to know. And both she and Rose have totally noticed my not so subtle visual search of their home.

"He's out biking with Em and Jasper," Rose says, obviously sick of skirting round the issue, "they'll be back before dinner."

"Whatever," I shrug.

"Don't even pretend you don't care after that totally hot make out session last night," Alice is nothing if not perceptive, I'm desperate to see Edward, even if I'm pretty sure I should be not caring. Or pretending not to care.

"At least let the girl pretend not to give a shit," Rose deadpans, eyeing the array of food Alice has just laid before us - an Esme prepared offering because she and Carlisle are away at some charity thing in Seattle for the weekend and the kids are fending for themselves. They need to send that woman out to Ethiopia or whatever.

Something I've noticed about Rose is that she can seriously eat. She's already polished off a chicken wrap before I've even decided what to pick up. I can only imagine that she's had to learn to work fast, what with spending so much time around the human trash can that is Emmett Cullen.

Alice picks at some food with delicate fingers, nibbling on breadsticks and hummus while observing me carefully. I know from the look on her face that there's no way I'm escaping talking about Edward.

As if on cue she starts, "are you getting back together then?"

"I don't know that we were ever really together in the first place."

It's true, Edward and I had never really been official. I'd told him that I didn't do dating, that relationships were pretty much out of the question and although he'd clearly been narked about it he'd mostly left the whole thing alone, letting me take the lead. Mostly.

"Of course you were," she scoffs, "just because you didn't put a label on it doesn't mean the relationship didn't exist."

"Did you…?" I know what Rose is trying to ask and I'm pretty sure she knows the answer so I just shake my head and she goes back to her food.

"You're going to talk to him," Alice states, in a way that suggests some kind of fucking fortune telling. I consider draping her head with Esme's lace tablecloth and pimping her out at fairgrounds.

"I guess. Although I don't know what I'm going to say. I still think he's a dick, just for the record."

Rose barks a laugh at my assessment, "Edward Cullen will always be a dick Bella, it's just a fact of life."

"Hey! That _is _my cousin you're talking about," Alice allows a small smile to play at the edges of her mouth even as she tries to look pissed at us.

"He's a prize ass hat Brandon and you know it."

"Rose!" Alice tries her best but she can't control her giggles, "I truly hope that this hasn't been removed from where it might have been," she's waving a breadstick at us.

"Oh Alice, Alice, Alice," Rose is across the room and reaching in to a cupboard, "surely you know by now why Esme had to buy this?"

She's brandishing a broom triumphantly, visibly holding back her laughter.

"Are you trying to tell me that my dear sweet cousin was behind the mystery of Esme's missing broom?"

"Bella, please understand," Rose is pulling a mock serious face, "the missing broom has been a Cullen household mystery akin only to the murder of JFK or the identity of Jack the Ripper. _This_," she shakes the brush violently in the air, "is a poor substitute for Esme's favourite sweeper, so cruelly taken from us in the prime of life."

"It had so much more to give," Alice is out of her seat, joining in with the show by pretending to be devastated. Even though it's all some sort of in joke I can't help the snorting laughs breaking out.

"It did, it really did," Rose addresses the broom, "I'm afraid to say that you, dear New Broom, are a poor, poor replacement."

Alice nods sagely, "never will the broom be replaced in our hearts, or in our minds. And we may never know the true fate of the missing broom."

"What the fuck are you two like?" I choke out breathlessly, throwing a bread roll at Rose.

But Rose hasn't finished yet, "the real tragedy Isabella, is that I believe we all know the truth, we all _know _where the broom is…"

"No! Don't say it!" Alice has somehow managed to make her way on to the kitchen counter where she is now lying, the back of one hand resting against her forehead in a mock faint.

"YES!" Rose bellows, shaking a fist at the sky, "the broom still walks among us Miss Brandon! It's killer one of our own!"

"Don't say it! Please don't say it!" Alice is wailing and for some reason she's adopted some kind of Scarlett O'Hara accent.

"You see Bella, I've known from the very first day the broom disappeared who had taken it and where he had hidden it."

"I can't deny it any longer, it's true," Alice squeals, leaping off of the counter and falling to her fucking knees, "it was him, it was…"

As she breaks off Rose cuts in, her voice low and mysterious, her fingers stroking an imaginary moustache, "It was Edward Cullen Miss Swan, Cullen himself anally retained the missing broom."

The two of them grip on to each other in peals of laughter.

"Ah man, they're only kidding around!"

The unexpected voice snaps us all out of our hysteria and our heads swivel almost as one just in time to see Edward stiffly climbing the stairs, as if he truly does have a broom lodged up his perfect ass.

Emmett and Jasper are pulling pretty much the same expression, a mixture of wry amusement and 'you've fucked right up there'.

"Shit," I mutter but Rose and Alice only wave off my concern.

"He'll get over it," Rose says, slapping Emmett's dirty hand away from the food.

"Sure, he'll have practically forgotten all about it by 2017," Emmett scoffs.

Jasper is more thoughtful, quietly washing his own hands in the kitchen sink before turning around to fix me with his special 'insightful' expression.

"I think he's more hurt at Bella laughing at him than anything else."

"Oh, for fucks sake!"

I mean, where does he get off being pissed at me. It's not like…well, ok, he did say sorry and all but…I wasn't laughing at him _per se_.

"Fine," I huff, hopping down from my stool, "I'll go say sorry."

"You don't have to do that," Alice states from her new position superglued underneath Jasper's arm, "it wasn't you that was being mean about him."

I wave her off with a sigh, "no, I've got to deal with him some fucking time anyway man."

"Don't let him make you feel shitty again."

I give Rose a grateful smile before making my way up the stairs with no fucking clue what I'm going to say.

I find my way back to Edward's bedroom without having to think – I'm fairly certain my chocho has its own compass – but once I'm there the poor girl shrivels up in fear, possibly trying to turn in on herself, even though faced with the scene of a rather pleasurable crime.

In fact such is the abject fear that Edward's door inexplicably strikes in to my heart and my lady parts that I hesitate before turning around, ready to run like a fucking douche, all the way home to Daddy.

"You can come in Bella," I swear to God, Buddha and Allah that dude's a mind reader or some shit.

I hesitantly turn the knob and peek around the door to find Edward perched on the edge of his bed, unlacing his sneakers.

"Hey," I mumble and he looks up at me, nodding in greeting.

There's a smear of mud across his left cheek and something about it makes me go all gooey, like somebody's swapped my guts for silly putty. In fact it's not just the smear of mud but the filthy close fitting t-shirt, sweat drenched hair and pissed expression he's rocking. I'm glad he's not wearing cycle shorts mind you, I'm not convinced even Dr Hot Jr could pull those off.

_Mmmm…pull those off_

I do my best to connect mind and mouth before I start visibly drooling.

"Look, Edward, I'm really sorry about that," I nod my head towards the door, assuming that he'll know what I'm talking about, "I mean, it wasn't fair to…"

Bare footed now, he stands up. I think I even kind of want to lick his feet a little bit.

"Would you wait here for just a minute Bella?"

I nod mutely and he smiles vaguely in return before disappearing through a door that I assume is his bathroom.

Listening to the shower running and trying my best not to imagine him actually _in_ the shower and, you know, wet and…everything, I cast my eyes over Edward's bookcase. It's immaculately arranged, seemingly in some sort of order, though damned if I can work out what his system is. Running a finger along the spines I can't help but feel my heart clench a little bit. Edward's books are so varied and so...something I can't put my finger on.

Smiling I pull out a copy of The Catcher in the Rye. It's so obvious but so right. I can totally imagine Edward fancying himself as Holden fucking Caulfield. I'd known so many boys who had a copy of Salinger's teenage angst bible but there was something about Edward keeping his well-thumbed copy in between Vanity Fair and Slaughterhouse Five instead of wandering around wistfully with it under his arm whilst wearing a red fucking hat that makes it seem ok.

All through the book he's underlined stuff. I guess for a school project maybe. I don't know. But there's all these bits underlined. Some of them are double underlined.

"_I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. __What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff. I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and __catch__ them. That's all I'd do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to be._"

He quotes it word perfect while I'm just standing there, frozen with my back to him like a fool, the book open in my hands, feeling his warm breath on my neck.

He reaches over and plucks the book from my fingers, making me jump right out of my damn skin. A droplet of cool water falls on my arm and I follow its path with my eyes, just watching it run downwards and evaporate.

"Word for word Cullen, nice," I gather myself and turn, keeping my gaze fixed firmly on the floor because I know, I _know_,the cunning bastard has come out of the bathroom still dripping wet and only clad in a motherfucking towel, "I'd be impressed, only every guy in America reckons he's Holden fucking Caulfield."

"Huh," he murmurs, "I don't think I'd want to be Caulfield. He's hardly one of literature's great heroes is he?"

"So, who would you be?" I chance a look up at him and wish I hadn't. But am completely glad I did at the same time. The vision of him standing in front of me, a fluffy white fucking towel wrapped around his waist – no, not his waist, it's hanging off of his damn hips, exposing that little trail leading down from his belly button – the light smattering of hair on his chest damply clinging to his pale skin and his auburn 'do dark with water, plastered to his forehead and, for fuck's sake, a half smile that sends a message south on his inhumanly beautiful face…well, I've sent that, to borrow an awesome phrase from Emmett, directly to the wank bank.

"I've no idea," he flings the book on to his bed and I kind of want to follow it, "what do you think?"

"Rochester?"

"Miserable? Rude? Cruel? I sincerely hope the similarity is only in our given name Bella."

"Ok, Mr Darcy."

He sighs and ruffles his hair, "well, at least he's supposed to be handsome."

"_Tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me_."

He roars with laughter, though whether at my ability to pluck a fucking Austen quote out of the air or the incongruity of me doing so I don't know. Before I have a chance to decide he's upon me, so close I can feel his body heat through my clothing.

"You mean you can't over look Darcy's snobbishness and arrogance? Even though he does try to do the right thing?"

"I didn't say _I_ had anything against him," I breath.

"Even though he can be dreadfully judgmental?"

"I don't think he is, not really, I mean, I think Elizabeth misunderstands him. In fact she's probably more judgmental than he is."

Before I can so much as roll my eyes at the fact that we're playing out some fucking scene like we're between the pages of a novel ourselves Edward's caught my lips in his and is moving them slowly.

The kiss is less eager and rough than our last but it's so much more sensuous. His hands find their way around my waist, under my shirt, where they start ghosting over the skin of my back. I respond by firmly placing my hands on his chest, reveling in the feel of his naked skin, letting my palms run over his tightening nipples.

"I am sorry," he mutters, not moving his mouth from mine so the words go right through me, "I had no right to say any of the things I said."

I can't reply, so instead I make an 'mmmm' sound. I think I've made my point.

"I need you to understand that what I said to you, it wasn't a judgment on you Bella, it was my stupid insecurities…"

"Edward?" I murmur, letting a thumb flick over one of his nipples so he shivers.

"Umm, yeah?"

"Please shut the fuck up."

He laughs in to my neck, letting his mouth explore the too sensitive skin there at the same time and I swear to god I'm actually panting. Which is kind of embarrassing.

I don't even realize he's moving us backwards until the backs of my knees hit the edge of something and, fuuuuck, I'm being lowered down on to a bed by probably the hottest guy in the world, who is now hovering over me, his erection fairly obvious between the thin fabrics of my worn jeans and his towel.

_Oh god, he's only wearing a shitting, fucking, damn, fucking towel._

I manage not to scream or punch the air, or rip my clothes off as if they're attached only by Velcro, male stripper style, but instead allow myself to feel the delicious weight of him on me, the way his warm hands are finding their way underneath my tank and up until they find my straining nipples attempting to make a break for freedom through the lace of my bra.

He squeezes gently and I buck in to him, causing a throaty growl to rip from his throat and one arm to reach under me, lifting me slightly and pulling me around until I'm entirely stretched across the middle of his bed. I'd complain about being thrown around like a fucking rag doll, but you know, I'm not caring so much right now.

"Jesus," he breathes, looking down at me, watching my face as I struggle to catch my breath, my chest rising and falling fast.

Agonisingly slowly he pushes my shirt up over my head and throws it away as if it's mortally offended him. Take that evil cotton.

With a small smile Edward leans towards me but leaves my lips hanging, instead using his tongue to draw lazy circles over my breasts through the almost sheer fabric of my bra, making me groan far too loudly. Although at this point my parents could walk in and pull up a seat and I'd ignore them, so the idea that my friends on the floor below might possibly hear me making sex noises? Not giving a shit.

His tongue and lips continue their explorations, gently flicking under the edges of my bra before running down towards my waist, his expert tongue – I daren't consider where he learned this trick – tickling in to my belly button. It's the kind of thing that should be weird but it's not, it's totally fucking hot.

Somehow, and I'm assuming it's the work of the devil, his towel has remained firmly in place throughout his ministrations. I have no idea why I haven't so much as tried to tug it out of its apparently too tight knot, this kind of restraint is very much Not Me.

In fact, while I'm considering this – and I don't know why or how I'm thinking at all since I'm fairly sure that blood should be being diverted from my brain at this precise moment – I suddenly notice the unexpected sensation of a button popping, closely followed by the gentle pull of a zip. I look down in surprise to see Edward face to cooter with me. Or near as damn it. The muscles across his shoulders are undulating and tensing as his arms run down to my ankles, pulling my sneakers off of my feet without a struggle, closely followed by my socks (God, please don't notice the fucking Spiderman socks), leaving my feet to be caressed and stroked and, lord have mercy, kissed.

Nobody has ever bothered to lavish my hooves with quite so much care. Edward takes it upon himself to pay individual attention to each toe, massaging and kissing and, if it wasn't making me gasp and squeak repeatedly, I'd find the whole scenario pretty damn bizarre.

He moves up to my ankles, pausing to yank on the cuffs of my jeans, pulling the denim away from my body in one slick movement, leaving me lying before him only in my mismatching underwear. I can't find it in myself to give a shit that I didn't carefully consider matching my panties to my bra at that moment though because the way Edward's looking at me right now I feel like I could be wearing a steel chastity belt or my days of the week panties and it wouldn't make a bit of difference. His green eyes are dark and hooded and his breathing is shallow, his face deadly serious. Every inch of the man holding himself over me, sweeping his gaze slowly over my body, is tensed to spring, tight and coiled.

For a moment our eyes lock and we simply stare at each other, waiting for one of us to do something.

I don't know which of us moves first but suddenly my fingers are in his hair, tangling and pulling and our mouths are crushed together, moving frantically. He's pushing down on me and pulling me up to meet his body at the same time. My legs are wrapped around his waist, heels forcing his pelvis as close to mine as to cause me to jerk upwards with the sudden pressure on the delicate nerves being moved and massaged by the rigid length of his cock.

"Oh god," I moan as his mouth once again finds a breast, biting and sucking through fabric, and his hands fumble around to tackle the clasp of my bra.

He isn't smooth and practised, of course he isn't and I'm pretty glad about it too, he bites a little too hard, chafes my skin when he concentrates on one area for too long and curses when he can't undo my underwear. But compared to anything else I've experienced, it's sheer fucking perfection.

The sensation of skin on skin is all the different because this time it's _his skin_, the noises I'm making are more abandoned and wild because it's _him _charming them out of me, the feel of inexperienced hands and inexpert lips seems all the more perfect because those lips and hands belong to _him_.

"Edward," I pant, screwing my eyes up so I don't have to look at him, trying to just not fucking feel what he's doing to me, "Edward!"

He hums in to my shoulder, his hands stilling on my bra clasp but his hips still moving against me.

"We need to…" I gasp as he hits the most perfect, sublime spot and sends a wave of warmth through my body, "oh God Edward, please…"

"Let go Bella," he whispers huskily in to my ear, he can sense my reaction to his movements, he knows what he's doing to me as he continues rubbing his length gently, agonisingly slowly against me, "I want to see you."

"Fuck," I almost yell, freezing underneath him, forcing my ass as far in to the soft mattress below it as I possibly can, pushing against his chest with all my strength, "we can't do this."

I think for a moment he hasn't heard me but then he stops moving abruptly, letting one long breath shudder out of him before he untangles himself from me and moves away, refusing to even raise his eyes.

"I don't…its not that…" I stutter, pulling the comforter up around me, like it makes an iota of damn difference, "ah shit, I'm sorry."

"Did I hurt you?" he murmurs, his eyes still trained on the carpet.

"Fuck, no Edward! You definitely haven't hurt me, _Jesus_," I hiss.

Shuffling off of the bed I trail over to him, the comforter dragging behind me like a bridal train. When I reach him I put my only free hand up to pull his head up so he's looking at me. He tries to avert his eyes but damned if I'm going to let him play the fucking martyr on this one.

"Fucking look at me Edward," I demand.

He does and I nearly offer to commit hari-kari right there to appease him, such is his wounded hang-dog expression.

"You know what you said about having a relationship that means something to both of us?"

He nods, running his tongue over his bottom lip but not saying anything.

"I've never had that Edward. You were right you know, about it all being a big experiment for me. Everything in Phoenix was about getting away from the real stuff, it was easier to hid behind this…this sexual bravado, the drinking and the partying. It was easier than admitting that I was totally fucking lost and confused and scared.

"I don't want you to think that you have to do this, or that it doesn't mean anything to me. I can't tell you what I want right now, but I want to try and do this your way…"

He frowns, "but I kind of want to do things your way."

"Stop thinking with your dick Edward."

He laughs and all the tension between us is gone.

"I think I might prefer to have this conversation fully clothed if you don't mind," he grins then, glancing down at his makeshift skirt.

"I kind of like you in that," I confess, letting a finger trail down the vertical dip in the centre of his torso, towards the promised land, "you know, if you're comfortable?"

He raises an eyebrow, "I'll stay in the towel if you drop the comforter."

"Okay, fine," the bastard's got me there, I'm not about to have a heart to heart in non-matching undies. But then I haven't got a body out of a fucking Grecian myth, "but if you'd rather not put a shirt on or whatever, I'll probably be ok with that."

Edward grabs some clothes from a chair and disappears in to the bathroom while I begin gathering up my discarded belongings. He returns, clad in faded joggers and a thin, stretched out t-shirt and, somehow, it's as damn sexy as the towel. It's got to be that fucking hair. I can see no other explanation. He holds all his power in his follicles.

"Nice socks."

I scramble to pick up my Converse but he beats me to them, holding them out of reach, "I like them, please can we leave Spidey exposed at least?"

"You're so fucking weird," I exclaim, clambering back up on to his bed and sitting cross legged.

"They're not my Spiderman socks Bella."

Edward chooses not to sit on the bed with me, instead sitting on the edge of his black leather sofa, elbows resting on his knees. I kind of ache at the lack of his touch but it makes sense not to have him too close, using his man voodoo on me.

"I meant what I said last night," he changes the subject so quickly my head spins, "I am sorry. Whatever happened in your past, it's done with, it doesn't change who you are now and how I feel about you.

"I was shocked and I overreacted. Some of the things I said were unforgivable Bella, but I want you to know that it was nothing to do with you, it was all me and my stupid ego."

He paused, running his hand through his already riotous hair. I wanted to say something but I couldn't think of anything that would make sense.

"When I look at you I see this beautiful, confident, smart _woman_. You've got so much experience, and not just – um, you know – _sexually_. You've done so much and experienced all these things that just haven't even entered in to my little world here in Forks.

"The first day you arrived here none of the boys at school could take their eyes off of you, you must have noticed it, nobody talked about anything else. But you took it all in your stride, you just flicked them all away one by one and…well, I don't know why you wouldn't do the same to me."

"You don't see yourself very clearly," I frown but he doesn't seem to even hear me.

"I want to be exciting and experienced and right for you Bella but I just can't be. I can try but I just think I'd let you down."

"Edward Cullen," I storm, crawling off of his bed and kneeling down between his legs, "don't even think that. The only way you would ever let me down is if you tried to be somebody you're not. If I didn't like you just like this don't you think I would've flicked you away too? For fucks sake, I'm the one who can't live up to you, I mean, you're just so fucking.._good_."

He laughs at that and his fingers dive in to the hair at the nape of my neck, massaging the tense muscles just there.

"You're good too you know," he whispers, leaning down to plant a kiss on my head, "you've just made some questionable decisions."

"Uh, you're not off the hook yet knitpacker, watch it."

He lifts me off of the floor and onto his lap, nuzzling in to my neck as I curl in to him. I don't know what the fuck it is but I just love that he makes me feel so _small_. It's like he can protect me or some shit. I'm usually all hard ass bitch but something about Edward makes me want to be a weak little girl. I don't suppose it's a good thing but I'm working with it for now.

"Knitpacker? Geez, I need to get me a Bella to English dictionary."

"You need to get that broom out of your ass."

"I'm actually going to kill Alice and Rose for that you know."

I can't help the snigger, but try my best to hide it, "want me to kick their butts for you Cullen?"

"Only if you particularly want Emmett to throw jello on the three of you."

"Lesbian jello fights don't turn you on baby?" I pout.

"Not ones involving my cousin and Queen Bitch down there, no. If we're talking you and, oh, say Olivia Wilde…"

"Seriously? Jesus, Edward, could you be any more obvious?"

"What?" he kisses me gently, "I don't want to share you anyway."

"So does that mean you're my boyfriend?" I kind of get a bit of a warm glow at the thought although Bitch Bella wants to pinch me really hard for it.

"If you want. At least until Olivia looks me up."

I punch the top of his arm, hard. Like that hosebeast has anything on me.

"But I was thinking…"

"Don't strain anything."

"How did you not get a Saturday Night Live call up yet Bella?"

I grin and figure I should probably let the poor guy get a word in edgewise.

"So, I want you to help me. I've always been this straight-laced, boring guy who gets his homework in on time and makes his parents proud."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"I know," he grimaces, "but I keep thinking about what you said, about me sitting on my porch waiting for excitement."

"Oh shit, Edward, I didn't _mean_ that," except I kind of fucking did.

"Yes you did," oh, ok "and you're right. I want to be more like you, I want to be able to seize the day, to be ok with making mistakes and having fun. Carpe diem and all that."

"You could start with dropping the Latin sweetheart."

"Did you just call me sweetheart?" he growls and stands up, taking me with him across the room where he throws me on to the bed again.

I squeal and push him away as he tries to kiss me again, his hands making a beeline for my tits.

"Here's the deal, goody two shoes, I'll help you to loosen up if you help me with something."

He sits up, looking at me expectantly, "with what?"

"I want you to teach me how to be good."

**A/N: I hope you can all forgive me for being a major cockblocker _again_, I promise one day there'll be more than dry humping on these pages! I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter - is poor old bore-ward misunderstood by his mean ol' family? Will he be able to let his sex-hair down? And can Bella be good? Most importantly, what would you like Edward to teach you? Piano? Mountain biking? Biology?**

As always thank you so much for reading, adding and reviewing. I'm astounded how many are adding this tale to their favourites, even if you are keeping very quiet ;) EQx


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